


From The Ashes

by Melissa_Alexander



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Sexual Assault, Awkward Daryl, Awkward Romance, Baptism, Canon-Typical Violence, Catatonic Depression, Comfort/Angst, Crisis of Faith, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Drunkenness, F/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Past Child Abuse, Pregnancy, Rough Sex, Sexual Assault, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 45
Words: 152,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melissa_Alexander/pseuds/Melissa_Alexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bethyl Fanfiction - The danger had passed and Daryl was reunited with Beth, but what did she really mean to him? With the full group back together his emotions were as clouded as ever. A passionate sense of desire was darkened by his hesitation and self-doubt. - Takes place after the season 4 finale. AU Rated for eventual sexual situations and some language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> Hell my lovelies. This is my first shot at fanfiction and is a work in progress. I started writing it last year and also have it cross-posted on ff.net under Melissa Alexander. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you and much love ~ Lis

 

 

 

 

"I've got it!" Beth called from the front of the group, plunging her knife in the approaching Walker's decaying skull. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Daryl watched her flick the blood from her knife and tuck it safely back at her hip. He watched her a lot since she had reunited with the group almost two weeks ago. Like if she wasn't constantly in his line of sight, she'd disappear again. Daryl's brows drew together as he scowled at the thought. Not while he was still breathing. _Never again._  The guilt of letting her get taken had nearly killed him. He still carried it with him, laying heavily on his heart, even though she was safely back where she belonged. He kept it there. He deserved that for failing her.

Daryl didn't know if it had been fate or just dumb luck that they had stumbled onto that car, broken down on the side of the road, doors hanging open. The minute he saw the cross in the back window, his heart had lurched into his throat ...Beth! The car was empty, but the hood was still warm. Daryl had taken off into the surrounding woods, ignoring everyone's questions and protests. It was a few yards in that he'd found them ...Beth and an older man hunched in front of a small fire. She'd heard him approach and leapt to her feet at the last minute, knife in hand, placing herself protectively in front of the older man with a feral look in her eyes. The little hellcat, he had taught her well. Her eyes had softened upon recognition, her voice a soft whisper as she'd said his name in disbelief. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but then suddenly the group was there behind him and Maggie was shoving her way past everyone to throw her arms around her little sister. Instinctively, Daryl raised his crossbow and pointed it in Beth's abductors' face. The man raised his hands up in front of his face defensively, sheer terror in his gaunt features.

"It's okay, Daryl, " Beth had crooned softly, placing her hand on his shoulder and stepping in between Daryl's crossbow and the cowering man. "This is Father Gabriel. He's a friend."

They had camped there for the night and Beth and Father Gabriel had recounted the events that had unfolded that evening at the mortuary. All but what had transpired between her and Daryl before all hell had broken loose. The mortuary had been Father Gabriel's safe house. He had been returning from a run when Beth had darted out onto the road, and right into the path of his moving vehicle. She had been knocked unconscious, but was still breathing and in a panic, he had scooped her up, shoved her inside and took off without a second thought to the scoundrel chasing after them. He thought the woman had been running from the man, and that he was saving her. When Beth had awoken, she had pleaded with him to go back, finally resorting to threatening his life. It had worked, but by the time they had returned, there was no sign of Daryl.

Daryl shifted the weight of his crossbow to his other shoulder and glared at the man who had whisked Beth away from him that night. He supposed he should be grateful that he had only good intentions, but truthfully Daryl wanted to stomp him into the ground. It seemed so unfair that when Daryl had finally allowed himself to grasp a bit of happiness, it had been snatched away from him. He should have known better. He didn't deserve that kind of happiness, anyway. Not with Beth Greene.

Before the world had gone to shit, a girl like Beth wouldn't have even given him a second look. Not that he would have blamed her. He wasn't really anything to look at. He wasn't really anything, period. She asked and he had told her ...he was nothin'. "Ya gotta say who you are, not who you were", her words came back to haunt him and played over and over in his mind like a litany. She was wrong, because he had let her down again, just like back at the prison. If he hadn't been so worried about getting her that stupid dog, they would have gotten out safely together. Daryl's gaze shifted to the scroungy one-eyed mutt trotting happily beside Beth.

" Stupid mutt", he spat.

"What was that?" Rick asked, making Daryl suddenly aware that someone was walking beside him.

Shit! Had he said that out loud? Get a grip, Dixon!

"Nuttin'. Just thinkin' we should prob'ly be makin' camp soon," Daryl said, wiping the sweat from his brow. The sun was getting lower in the sky overhead. It was getting cooler now that fall was officially here, but the sun was still unforgiving when you walked for miles with tons of gear on your back.

"Yeah, yer probably right," Rick agreed. "Maybe just a little further?" He cast a nervous glance behind him.

Instinctively, Daryl looked over his shoulder, too. They were far from Terminus ...weeks away. There really wasn't any reason for the Terminites to be tailing them, but you could never be too cautious these days. Daryl held onto the grain of hope that Beth had instilled in him; that their were indeed still good people in the world. Unfortunately, they usually encountered the bad.

Judith's wails split the silence, putting the whole group on alert. Tyrese shifted her little makeshift baby carrier around to the front of his lumbering frame and crooned to her softly. He had become her guardian of sorts, and baby Judy had him wrapped around her pudgy little finger. Daryl smirked. Lil' Asskicker had spoken, it was time to make camp. Beth eased her pack off her back and dug out a jar of baby food, then plucked Judith out of Tyrese's arms. Judith knew her dinner was coming and cooed impatiently. Now that she was eating solids, she ate more frequently. It was a little early, but they hadn't really had a choice. Formula was hard to come by on the road, but they had hit the jackpot on some Gerber jars at the last house they had scavenged before jumping on the highway.

"Will you hold her while I feed her, Carl?" Beth asked.

"Sure," Carl agreed, anxiously. He was happy to get out of setting up camp.

Sasha, Bob and Glenn led the way off the road a bit, keeping alert for Walkers. Maggie stayed close to Beth and Carl, the rest picking up the rear while they all walked a safe distance from the road. When they found a suitable spot, Beth and Carl took a seat against a tree to feed Judith before her cries brought a herd down on them, while everyone else busied themselves getting their camp together and getting some food cooked up.

Daryl had just finished stringing the last of the tin cans around the perimeter when Glenn approached him with a plate of beef jerky and beans. Daryl itched to go hunting and get some real meat. If only to break away for awhile and clear his head. They needed to get as far north as they could before winter came. They needed to find some wheels and soon. He stole a quick glance in Beth's direction. She was deep in conversation with Maggie. The two were almost inseparable since being reunited.

Daryl watched the animated way Beth conversed with her sister. Her ponytail swayed back and forth with every bounce of her head. He had the sudden urge to see what her golden hair would look like free from the confines of that elastic band, cascading around her shoulders and moving wildly in the breeze. Woah! Where in the hell did that come from?

"Dude, I hope its not my wife you're staring at like that," Glenn nudged him playfully in the ribs.

"What?" Daryl nearly choked on the jerky he was chewing.

Glenn slapped him on the back. "Relax man, I'm just kidding."

Rick waved them closer and Daryl was happy for the distraction. They passed around a bottle of water while they mapped out their direction for tomorrow. Abe voiced Daryl's earlier thought about the need to find some working vehicles, while Eugene babbled about useless shit to anyone who would listen. Daryl was sure he just loved the sound of his own voice.

"Alright, we should get some shut eye. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow and we need to put a spring in our step if we're gonna get to DC before winter hits," Rick addressed the group. "We'll split in pairs of four tonight for watch. Two on each side of the perimeter. I'll take the first watch with Michonne, Tyrese and Carol. Daryl, you take the second watch with Abe, Rosita and Ta-"

"I'll take second watch with them", Beth interrupted, her blue eyes locked on Daryl while everyone else's eyes were locked on her. "Tara's leg is still hurt and we've done nothing but walk for days now. She should rest."

"You should rest too," Maggie insisted. "I'll do -"

Beth cut her off, not to be deterred. "You were on watch last night. I can do it. I'm doin' it," Beth insisted, looking intently at her sister, a challenge in her eyes.

Rick looked at Daryl for confirmation and was met with a nod of approval. "Why not?" Daryl shrugged, feigning indifference. He stood and moved away from the group, and settled against the trunk of one of the perimeter trees. He watched while the camp settled in for the night, everyone heading to their tents, and Carl kicking dirt on the fire to put it out before crawling into Rick's tent with Lil Asskicker. Daryl had a tent too, he just didn't feel like putting it up for one night. He was just as comfortable against the tree. Sleeping on the ground was sleeping on the ground, after all. If he could stop his racing thoughts and actually get some sleep, he thought dryly.

He remembered how Beth had fixed her beautiful blue eyes on him as she boldly announced to the group that she was taking the second watch. He knew that she wanted to talk to him, had sensed it for awhile now. What the hell was he supposed to say? He knew what he wanted to say, but whenever he opened his mouth, it all came out wrong and he ended up looking like a damn fool.

He'd gone over it in his mind a million times since the night he had hopped in the coffin and listened to her sing softly about "laying in the lawn and shot gunning beer". He wanted to tell her that she had changed him, that for the first time in longer than he could remember, he wanted more. He wanted happiness. He wanted to live and not just survive. He wanted to make her smile, hear her laugh, listen to her sing. He would have been content to live out the rest of his days in that funeral parlor with Beth Greene. And then that night at the table, when he had finally worked up enough courage to tell her, he opened his mouth and all that came out was "You know." He had tried then, so hard to convey to her with his eyes what he couldn't seem to force out of his mouth, and he'd made a complete and total ass out of himself! Had she known what he meant? Did she understand what was in his heart? Did he even understand it? And then it didn't matter because she had been ripped away from him and reality had set in.

Daryl was not a religious man by any means, but he had begged whatever Spirit resided in the sky every day while they were separated to let him find her again, to let her be okay. He swore he would never give another selfish thought to his own happiness again if she would just return unharmed. His faith had been rewarded. He had gotten his wish, and so he would keep up his end of the bargain.

He had never wanted a cigarette so badly in all his life! Daryl sat up just in time to see Carol storm angrily away from Rick. They fought a lot since Terminus. Rick still didn't fully trust her. Truth be told, neither did he. Daryl knew she was hiding something, but he wasn't going to push her. If she wanted to tell him, she would when she was ready. He loved Carol, he always would. If Rick was his brother, then Carol was his sister. She was traveling down such a dark path though, and he was going in the opposite direction. He felt miles away from Carol and in the meantime, he had enough shit to worry about. He was confident she would work it out in her own time and in her own way. Carol was far from the weak, abused woman he met three years ago at the quarry. She was a survivor now, in every sense of the word.

Maybe he should just get up and relieve someone? It was obvious he wasn't going to get any sleep. Not tonight. Daryl leaned back against the tree again and tugged on his chin hair, willing his weary body to relax. His thoughts drifted once more, back to Beth. Why the hell couldn't he get her out of his head for longer than five minutes? Did she think about him too, he wondered? No. He wouldn't go there. As usual, his mind wouldn't cooperate, though.

"Oh." What did that mean, anyway? It hadn't seemed like a bad, "Oh". She hadn't looked repulsed or frightened ...just shocked. Christ, she wasn't the only one! Daryl has spent years building up the thick skin he used to protect himself, and like the mud snake he had skinned that day in the woods, Beth had stripped him of his protective layer and made him vulnerable.

It had felt so good to shed some of his demons, though. To let go of the bullshit that had been suffocating him since he was just a dumb kid growing up in Merle's shadow. He wasn't that asshole redneck anymore. He wasn't! He had left that part of him in the ashes of the moonshine shack they had burned down. He was a good man, wasn't he? Beth said he shouldn't need anyone to remind him. He did, though, because a good man wouldn't have stopped looking for her. A good man would have kept running. More importantly, a good man would not be laying against a tree thinking about a girl he could never have.

Daryl threw his hand over his eyes and groaned inwardly. The hell with it, then! He conjured up Beth's image in his mind. Beth plucking at the piano keys. Beth singing softly. Beth scrawling out thank you notes to strangers and finding beauty in made-up Walkers. Beth bouncing Lil Asskicker on her hip. Beth hugging him from behind ...holding him up when the weight of the world had gotten to heavy. Finally his eyelids drifted closed and sleep found him.

 


	2. I'm Gonna Keep Remindin' You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was an air of confidence about her now, and Daryl wasn't the only who had noticed it. Could Beth break through Daryl's hard exterior once more? She was sure going to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive my silly chapter summaries ...hopefully I will get better at them as we go along. I would like to give some love to my "editors" Alex and Ben who help keep me grounded and inspired. Thank you for reading ...enjoy! ~ Lis

 

Daryl stole nervous glances over his shoulder while he stalked his side of the perimeter. He could see Michonne waiting patiently for Beth to drag on her boots and crawl out of the tent. She stumbled out clumsily, still sleepy and smoothed her hands over her disheveled hair. Again, he had the urge to free it from its confines and run his fingers through it. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, as she zipped her hooded sweatshirt up to her chin and covered the distance that separated them. It was only a few feet, but it felt like an eternity to Daryl as he watched her walk towards him. There was an air of confidence about her now, and he wasn't the only one who had noticed it. Beth wasn't a little girl anymore. Truthfully, she hadn't been since the farm. This new world would do that to you, make you older than your time and it wasn't fair.

Without missing a beat, Beth strode right up to him and tucked her little hand into his open palm, lacing her slender fingers through his. Inadvertently, he gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and was rewarded with a soft sigh as she leaned her small frame against his shoulder. Daryl got a sense of deja-vu and was transported back to that day in the cemetery. It seemed like eons ago. A part of him wished they could go back there to that day, that place in time. Things didn't seem so black and white then. Not like here with the group. Daryl felt like everyone's eyes were always on him. Watching him, watching her. He knew he should pull away and not give her the wrong idea, but  _damn_  it felt so good to be close to her again. He would allow himself this small respite, if only for just a few minutes more.

"I know you missed me, Daryl Dixon." Beth broke the silence. It wasn't a question. There was that confidence again. If Daryl wasn't so unnerved, he would have found it sexy. How did she have the power to make him feel so uncomfortable in his own skin? A nod of agreement was all he could muster. She was right after all. He had missed her, thought about her every day, though he would never admit it.

"I knew you would find me," she continued. "I told Gabriel every day. Daryl will turn the whole state of Georgia upside down ta find me."

The guilt ripped through his gut like a well honed blade. He knew she was telling the truth and he had never felt like a bigger piece of shit than at that very moment. He had wanted to find her! He had ran after that car for hours ...until the night sky was streaked with light. Ran until his lungs couldn't draw another breath, his chest and throat burning and his legs about to give out from under him. When he reached that crossroads he didn't know which way they'd went. The best tracker in the world couldn't track on pavement. He had given up, but not because he wanted to. But he had given up, all the same. He was no hero. He was no savior. He had failed her.  _Worthless. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

"About that night", Beth continued, softly, pulling Daryl from his thoughts. Her voice hitched a little, " Think maybe we should finish that conversation?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. He hoped he was coming off as nonchalant as he lied through his teeth. "Nuthin' really left ta say."

Beth fixed him with a stern look and gave his hand a squeeze. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out. Knowing you were out there somewhere was the only thing that kept me goin', Daryl."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably. This emotional shit was not his strong suit. "Don't matter, any how. The group's all-"

"It does matter," Beth insisted. "I need ta know where we go from here, Daryl. How do you feel about me?"

How did he feel about her? Daryl didn't really know how to answer that. What he did know was that he had no business feeling any way for a woman like her.

"Got a mouse in yer pocket? Ain't no we, Greene." Daryl raised his voice an octave, his words sounding harsher than he intended. He gently coaxed his fingers free of her grasp. He couldn't do what he had to do with her touching him. He couldn't let her break his resolve. He tried to ignore the fleeting glimpse of pain in her eyes as he broke their physical contact and put some much needed distance in between them. "We got stuck ta'gether an' made the best of it, is all."

Beth called him right out on his bullshit. "You're lyin'," she said, taking a defiant step forward, and pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Somethin' changed between us, Daryl. I know ya feel it, too. Lyin' ta yourself won't change that."

Daryl kicked the dirt at his feet in frustration. He should have known she wouldn't back down so easily. Not his Beth. _No!_  She wasn't his, would never be. He wouldn't allow it. She deserved so much more than what he had to offer. Some dumb, emotionally stunted piece of white trash had no business even standing so close to her. She embodied everything he wanted and everything he was not. Everything he would never be. It made him angry and fueled his need to lash out at her.

"I ain't lyin'," he spat back at her. "I don't know what you been cookin' up in that lil' head a yer's," he lifted his free arm up to draw imaginary circles in the air by his temple, emphasizing she was off her rocker, "but apparently we ain't on the same page here, girl!"

Beth took a defensive stance, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You unbelievable stubborn jackass." Her blue eyes bore into him, pinning him in place and daring him to deny it.

Daryl's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did ya call me?"

Beth was not backing down. She took another daring step forward and got right in his face, so close he swore he could hear the blood thrumming through her veins. "I said, you're an ass," she ground out slowly, putting emphasis on the last word.

Her words stung more than he cared to admit. Anger coursing through him, he grabbed Beth's forearm and jerked her hard up against him. "You better watch yer mouth," he growled.

They were nose to nose now, so close he could feel her warm breath on his face. Daryl was unprepared for the sharp pang of desire that tore through his body, as he stared down at her, his anger fading. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing matching his own accelerated rate. Their lips were dangerously close.

Before he even saw it coming, Beth arched her back, effectively closing the distance between them and gently brushed her lips against his. Her lips were soft and had the faint distinctive taste of strawberries and Daryl was helpless to do anything in that moment, but return the kiss. He kept it gentle, slowly capturing her bottom lip between his own. His grip on her arm relaxed, but he didn't release her. Beth sighed and leaned her head to the side, allowing him to deepen the kiss, her little tongue darting out to lick his top lip. Daryl groaned and drug his teeth across her bottom lip, desire slamming through him again. What the hell was he doing?

His senses returning, Daryl broke the kiss, releasing her arm and jerking away from her. Distance. He needed some distance. "Ya don't want me, Beth. I ain't no good fer ya." He spoke the words, wishing with every fiber of his being that they weren't true.

Beth took a step towards him, her lips still swollen from his kiss. "Don't give me that crap! Hot one minute, cold the next ...ya don't get ta play with my emotions an' jerk me around just because you're afraid!"

"Ain't played wit yer emotions," Daryl shot back angrily. "This ain't no romance novel, girl! I ain't yer damn hero! Couldn't even save ya that night at the funeral home ..." His words trailed off, the pain of that night rearing its ugly head again. Daryl turned his back on her abruptly, he couldn't stand to see the pity reflecting in the deep blue pools of her eyes.

"Ain't ya supposed ta be helpin' me wit watch?" He threw over his shoulder sarcastically.

"I never said I was lookin' for a hero, Daryl. Just you." Beth answered simply. "Why do ya feel like ya don't deserve ta be happy?" Refusing to be ignored she stomped to his side and tugged his arm until he turned around again to face her. "It's bullshit!"

"Maybe I jus' don't wanna be wit' ya. Ever think a that?" Daryl lifted his crossbow and scanned the darkness, making sure all was well before continuing his verbal assault on Beth. "Ain't no husband material. I ain't gonna settle down. Only ever needed a woman fer one thing, anyway!"

If his insinuation had hurt her, she showed no indication. She just stood there unmoving, a silent sentinel, allowing him to vent his frustrations on her. How could she be so calm and collected when he was falling apart at the seams?

Daryl took another step backwards, he could never seem to put enough distance between them. "Think I woulda got yer daddy's seal of approval?" He growled. "Think he woulda wanted his lil' girl kickin' around wit some redneck asshole?"

An approaching Walker temporarily halted their conversation. Daryl took it out with ease, his bolt piercing it right through its eye socket. Beth ducked easily under the string of tin cans to retrieve it for him.

"I know he would," Beth replied, handing Daryl his bolt, her confidence unwavering. "He'd have been content knowin' his little girl was happy and that she'd be taken care of. He knew just as well as I that you're a good man, Daryl Dixon. He saw it, just like everyone here can see. You'd see it too if ya'd just get the hell outta yer own way. So if you say yer an asshole, its only because you're actin' like one now."

"Who's full a shit now?" Daryl scoffed, snapping the bolt back into place. "You gonna help me keep watch or what?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Dixon," Beth mocked him. She lifted her sweatshirt and pulled her knife from where it rested on her hip. "You're wrong, by the way," she said, fixing her blue eyes intently on him one last time before turning on her heel. "And I'm gonna keep reminding you," she threw over her shoulder as she walked away, ponytail swinging behind her.

Daryl released the shaky breath he was holding in and rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. Right about now, he'd sell his soul for a cigarette and a cold beer. What the hell had just happened? Beth had kissed him. Holy shit! Innocent little Beth Greene. Daryl bought his fingertips to his mouth, remembering just how sweet her lips had tasted, the velvety softness of her tongue. He shook his head, willing the memory to go away and cursed himself for his weakness. It wasn't just momentary weakness, either. It was weakness in general, whenever Beth was concerned. She had the uncanny knack of breaking down his best defenses and left him feeling like curling up in the fetal position afterwards.  _Worthless. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._  That would be his new mantra.

Daryl needed a resolution and fast. He'd move heaven and earth to protect Beth, including from himself ...but who was going to protect him from her? Daryl snorted at how silly that sounded, but who would have ever thought he'd be effectively lip raped by sweet little Beth Greene? Daryl chuckled in spite of himself. You couldn't rape the willing, and he had been more than willing to accept a mouth wrestling match with her.

"Stupid." He mumbled under his breath, fiddling with the feathered end of one of his bolts. He shouldn't have kissed her back. That was a huge mistake! He sighed and lowered his crossbow, thinking that was just another mistake in his growing list of many. He was an asshole, guilty as charged. He had given her the wrong idea, and he knew he was going to pay for it. But dammit, it had been worth it! He would gladly spend an eternity in hell just to know what the inside recesses of her mouth felt like ...and that made him the biggest piece of shit.  _Ever._

Daryl felt like a war was raging inside of him. It would be so easy just to give up and let her win. She had kissed him, after all. But why? He just didn't understand what Beth could possibly see in him? He wasn't good looking, smart or witty and he avoided conversation whenever he could.  _And_ , he was significantly older than her. That didn't really bother him, but he was sure someone in the group would have something to say about it. He certainly didn't feel like being scrutinized, or the need to have to justify his feelings to anyone but Beth. Daryl grunted as his frustration mounted. He was tired of constantly overanalyzing the way he was thinking and feeling and wished to hell he could just flick a switch in his brain and turn it all off!

He did feel like he didn't deserve to be happy. Penance for past transgressions, he supposed. Yet, his resolve had gone up in flames, just like the moonshine shack they'd torched that night in the woods. Seemed like weeks, not months had passed since that happened. His past was behind him now, buried in the ashes. He was a good man, she'd said so, but that didn't mean he would ever be good enough for her. Reality was a vengeful bitch.

A Walker was approaching camp. He could hear it growling and stumbling towards him. Daryl hopped the fence easily, in one quick, fluid motion, and dropped his crossbow on the ground. He needed to vent his frustrations and could think of no better way to do it. Quickly withdrawing his knife, he advanced on the rambling corpse. He kicked it in its decaying stomach, knocking it to the ground, and pounced, effectively pinning it beneath him. Daryl lifted his knife high above his head and brought it down with perfect precision. Over and over he plunged his knife into its skull, turning his mantra over in his mind.  _Worthless_ ; stab.  _Redneck_ ; stab. _Asshole_ ; stab. _Failure_ ; stab. He didn't stop until his arms were trembling and a fine sheen of sweat gathered on his brow.

Beth Greene was going to be the death of him. Beth Greene and her soft little smart mouth.


	3. Protective Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to a nearby stream proves to be quite an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, still working on my crappy summaries (I don't want to spoil anything lol). This chapter is dedicated to my buddy Shep, who does not ship Bethyl, but still listened to me drone endlessly about them (as if he had a choice) and for inspiring the idea for this chapter. Always love for my "editors". Thanks for reading! ~ Lis

Beth was humming, the sweet sound carried across the breeze to his waiting ears. Daryl couldn't pinpoint the tune, but it had been the same one she'd been humming for the last few days. He enjoyed the sound, letting it wash over his senses as he strolled into camp, a handful of rabbits slung over his shoulder. Tonight would be good eating and full stomachs, a welcome change to these last few weeks on the road. Between the snares Rick and Carl had set and the two hours he'd stole to hunt this morning, they'd have a rabbit feast, complete with some canned potatoes and carrots. It wasn't no five star restaurant fare, but it beat the hell out of beans and jerky every night for the past three days.

They had decided to hunker down for a few days, let everyone rest up and eat something that wasn't out of a bag or a can. Daryl wasn't one to sit around and cool his heels, he itched to get back on the road and get moving, find some permanent shelter. Something with solid walls. Protection. However, their current camp had proven relatively safe so far, with a stream within walking distance, which meant plenty of fresh game nearby and clean water for boiling and to wash up in. A luxury in their present predicament for sure, if you were a glass half full kinda guy.

Everyone had taken advantage of the stream to freshen up. Everyone except him. He knew it was only a matter of time before Maggie and Beth chased him down there. They'd spent the better part of the morning sending the guys off single file, a bar of soap and a disposable razor in one hand, a set of clean clothing in the other, then attacked them with a pair scissors upon their return. That was when Daryl announced that he was going hunting, and ducked out right quick. He had hoped to stay out of sight until they were done, his grooming forgotten, but Beth was just finishing up Carl's hair when he returned. Her soft blue eyes greeted him silently as he moved past her.

Daryl maintained what he thought was a safe distance and set himself to his task. Shrugging off his leather vest, he leaned his crossbow against the tree beside him, rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his hunting knife. Kneeling, he laid the first rabbit down in front of him, raised his sharp knife and brought it down in one fell swoop, efficiently separating the rabbit's head from its body, then started on removing the feet, one by one until all five of them were ready for skinning. Daryl suddenly realized Beth's humming had stopped and glanced up, surprised to see her standing in front of him, watching intently.

"Can I help?" She asked, in her sweet sing-song way.

He should have said no, but the word yes tumbled from his lips faster than his brain could catch up. Beth always wanted to be helpful and he didn't have the heart to deny her anyway, despite his better judgment. She was beaming from ear to ear as she kneeled down beside him, her hand going to her hip to retrieve her knife.

"Not yet," Daryl said, laying his large hand over her small one to halt her. "Like this," he continued, picking up one of the rabbit carcasses, he gripped one of the legs tight and grabbed the skin at the base of its neck with his other hand, then yanked, peeling the skin off of the rabbit.

"So its like takin' off a sock," Beth observed with a smile.

Daryl smirked. "Pretty much." He picked up another rabbit and handed it to her. "Go on Greene, give a try."

Beth took the rabbit and gripping it like Daryl had shown her, gave the skin at the neck a good hard tug, effectively removing all but the little white tuft of the tail.

"What I do wrong?" Beth asked, momentarily discouraged.

"Nuttin'. Sometimes the tails jus' stubborn, is all. Go on an' put a lil' muscle in it," Daryl teased her. He picked up another rabbit and quickly and effortlessly skinned it.

Beth gave it a hard tug and Daryl was rewarded with another of her huge smiles as the tuft of tail fur came off in her hand.

"Now fer the fun part." Daryl continued his lesson, laying the rabbit down in front of him. He picked up his knife and stuck it in under the ribs, cutting into the belly as far as he could, then cut behind its hind legs, exposing its innards. He gently scooped them out and deposited them off to the side.

Beth followed his lead, concentrating on her knife strokes, her teeth biting her lower lip. Daryl watched her intently, desire rocking his gut as he remembered when that bottom lip had been between his own teeth, not so long ago.

"How am I doin'?" Beth asked, pulling him from his wayward thoughts.

"Fine," Daryl choked out, reaching for another rabbit and hoping she didn't catch the pitch in his voice. "If we wanted, we could cook up the liver, too. That's a real delicacy." He gutted it quickly and easily.

"Comin' from someone who enjoyed eating squirrel prior to the apocalypse," Beth teased him.

Daryl smirked. "I don't recall seein' ya complainin' when ya went back fer seconds last time."

She laughed, then. A sweet melodic sound that enveloped Daryl, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Soothing his very soul.

Beth turned to face him, her expression suddenly serious. "We wouldn't eat half the time, if it weren't for you."

Daryl swallowed nervously, unsure how to respond to her obvious compliment, or the foreign feeling of being appreciated. Needing to change the subject, he scooped up the last rabbit and handed it to her. "Get on wit' it, girl. Yer holdin' up dinner."

Beth gutted the next one with ease, scooping out the innards and plopping them on the ground. She reached to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear and left a streak of blood staining her cheek. Without a second thought, Daryl pulled the handkerchief from his back pocket, leaning over to gently wipe the side of her face. Beth touched his hand in a tender gesture, peering over at him with hooded lashes and Daryl immediately recoiled. He was suddenly aware that the group was there, and the spell was broken. He felt like a million eyes were on him, as he stood abruptly and cleared his throat, but no one was watching.

Beth scraped her knife clean in the grass. If her feelings were hurt from his sudden withdrawal, she didn't show it. Daryl extended his hand to help haul her up from her kneeling position and she accepted it without hesitation.

"I've never been so excited to cook in all my life," Carol joked, surprising them as she approached the tree. "I'd give anything for some All Spice, though." She bent down to retrieve the rabbit carcasses, tucking them into her arm. "Eugene is making me a spit to roast them on. He says it'll take about an hour, hour and a half until they're done?"

Daryl nodded, "Sounds bout right."

"Well then you two better hurry down to the stream and wash up," said Carol, swiping the sweat from her brow with her free hand. It had been unusually warm the last two days, almost like an Indian summer. "There's some clean towels hanging on the branch by Abe's tent," she said over her shoulder, as she made her way back to the campfire to start cooking the rabbits.

"Can ya gimme a sec?" Beth asked. "I just wanna grab my bag."

Daryl nodded and she turned and jogged to the tent she shared with Michonne and Tara, disappearing inside. He was happy for the moment to collect his thoughts. _What the hell was he doing?_   _Touching Beth in the middle of camp with the whole group around was insane! What if someone would have seen? Had Carol seen?_ Daryl's mind was racing! _He should not be going down to the stream alone with Beth Greene. He should not!_  Daryl hoisted his bow up over his shoulder and fiddled nervously with the strap as Beth emerged from her tent, her backpack slung over her shoulder. She walked past Abe's tent and jerked two of the towels down from the low hanging branch.

"Ready?" She smiled, strolling past him to the path that led down to the stream. Daryl swore she had a mischievous twinkle in her sparkling blue eyes.

"As I'll ever be," Daryl replied dryly, falling in step behind her.

The stream was a relatively short walk from camp. Beth hummed most of the way, keeping to herself and Daryl appreciated having the time to put the fragmented pieces of what was left of his mind back together. He was ashamed of himself, plain and simple. These feelings were wrong. Plain and simple. Except it wasn't very simple at all. Beth Greene had worked her way under his skin and Daryl didn't like it one bit. The more he tried to stay away from her, the more he realized that he really didn't want to. _But what did he want? To be with her? No._  Daryl had never wanted to be with any woman. Except for when he felt the need to get laid, a mutual release and then they both went on there merry way. No harm, no foul. He knew he could never do that to Beth ...would never do that to Beth. She deserved to be loved and cherished, to be the center of someone's universe. She deserved so much more than Daryl was capable of giving her. It angered him, saddened him ...made him wish he had been brought up better. Wish he wasn't such a worthless asshole.

Daryl was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost plowed right over Beth who had stopped at the break in the trees before proceeding cautiously to the bank of the stream. She eased her backpack off her shoulders and slumped to the ground to rifle through its contents, retrieving a plastic bottle with some picture of a fruit on it, a disposable razor and some folded articles of clothing. She set the items aside, then settled down on her behind, proceeding to remove her boots and socks.

"You go on. I'll keep an eye out," Daryl offered. He backed off a ways to give her some space.

"Thanks," Beth replied, coming back up to her feet. "I've been thinking about this all day," she gushed excitedly, her nimble fingers quickly undoing her belt buckle and then the button-fly of her jeans.

Daryl stumbled backwards, his face turning bright red. "What?" He managed to choke out, regaining his footing and trying to look at anything other than Beth. _Fat chance._

"Getting in this water," Beth grunted, wrestling her skinny jeans down her hips and thighs, revealing shapely legs and the most awkwardly cute pair of camo print panties cut in the boy shorts style. She lifted a dainty foot and kicked her jeans off to the side with her socks and boots, then grabbed the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up and over her head, she tossed it to the pile, then adjusted the straps of the black sports bra she was wearing, completely unembarrassed to be half undressed in front of him.

Daryl turned away quickly and began walking upstream, putting a safe distance between them. He wasn't no peeping Tom and he wasn't going to stand there and gawk at her. "Ever hear of modesty?" He threw over his shoulder, while he scanned the surrounding area, trying to keep his mind occupied.

"Haven't you ever been ta the be-", Beth stopped mid sentence, remembering that Daryl had said he'd never been out of Georgia. "Its like a bathing suit, Daryl. Surely you've seen a girl in her underwear before?" She teased him, grabbing up her plastic bottle and razor and heading for the water.

Daryl knew she was teasing him, but it pissed him off all the same. "I seen plenty!" He yelled back at her."Don't mean I wanna see yer's!"

Beth had apparently decided to ignore his rude comment and took a seat on the bank of the creek, splashing some water on her legs and quickly running the razor over them, then did the same to her underarms. When she was smooth and satisfied, she stood and walked all the way into the creek, dunking down and submerging herself to the neck, then springing back up with a yelp.

"Ya alright?" Daryl called to her from the bank.

"Water's cold!" Beth yelled back. "Hey, can you toss me that bottle of shampoo, please?" She indicated the plastic bottle she'd left on the bank with her razor, then reached up and pulled the elastic band from her hair, releasing her golden locks. They tumbled down her shoulders in cascading waves of honey.

She was all woman standing there before him, hair hanging wildly about her face, her bra and panties drenched and sticking to her like a second skin. Daryl could feel his desire building. He wanted nothing more than to rush into that water, scoop her up in his arms and kiss her senseless. Instead, he grabbed up the plastic bottle and tossed it in her direction, averting his gaze as best he could. She had only been in the water a few minutes, but it felt like a lifetime to Daryl. He would never get that image of her out of his mind. It was burned into his brain forever.

Beth quickly washed her hair and wrung it out, then headed for the bank. Daryl met her there with the towel, wanting to cover her as quickly as possible, moving a safe distance away as soon as her fingers closed around the ends of it. Beth thanked him and started toweling off while walking towards her clean clothing.

"I'm surprised we haven't encountered any Walkers," she mused. "Barely any since we set up camp here."

"I ain't complaining'," Daryl replied. "Its kinda-"

_Plop!_  Beth's wet sports bra hit the ground, halting the words in Daryl's mouth.  _Plop!_  The wet panties followed right after. The towel was still wrapped around her, concealing her nakedness, but Daryl could imagine every curve, nook and cranny that was hidden beneath it. It was more than he could take. He turned abruptly and walked away as fast as he could without outright running.  _Was she trying to kill him? A man could only take so much!_

"I'm dressed," her voice called him back a few moments later. Beth regarded him in a clean tank top and skinny jeans. Her hair was still damp and tangled, her feet bare. She was a hot mess of youth and innocence all rolled up in a ball of perfection and the most beautiful thing that Daryl had ever laid eyes on. Daryl fiddled with the strap of his bow, unsure what else to do.

Beth bent and scooped up her dirty wet clothing and shook them out and away from her. "I'll give yours a scrub, too."

"Nah, I'm good," Daryl replied, dropping his crossbow onto the bank. "I'll just rinse off a bit."

"I brought ya clean clothes," Beth coaxed him. "And I need your hair wet ta give ya a trim."

"Who said I was getting' a trim?" Daryl scoffed, his hand moving to his beard, stroking it. His eyes held a silent challenge.

"Me," Beth answered simply in her sweet voice. She met his eyes briefly with her own.  _Challenge accepted._  "Now go on," she ordered, pointing towards the stream with her free hand. "I won't peek."

Daryl rolled his eyes, unsure what else to to do. As if sensing his insecurities, Beth busied herself, moving down stream a little, to scrub her dirty clothing clean. Her soft humming carrying on the breeze was like a soothing balm for Daryl.  _Soothe the savage beast_ , he thought to himself. Summoning his courage, he quickly kicked off his boots and socks, then glancing nervously in her direction, he undid his belt and slowly peeled his grimy pants down his legs. His fingers found the buttons of his plaid shirt and Daryl faltered, feeling like a deer in headlights and willing himself not to run for cover, he took a deep breath and undid the first button. Quickly, before he lost his nerve he undid the rest, shrugged his shirt off and with one more look in Beth's direction, darted for the protection and cover of the stream.

She was right, the water was damn cold! He submerged himself quickly, wanting to get it over and done with. When his head broke the water, Beth was collecting his discarded clothing. She respected his privacy, focusing on her task and made her way back to her washing spot. Daryl cautiously inched his way back to the bank, keeping his eyes trained on her while he snatched the plastic bottle with the fruit on it. Strawberries. Great, he might as well smell like a damn girl since he'd been acting like one, lately. _"Darlena,"_  Merles voice rang in his ears. Daryl shook his head, chasing his ghosts away and scrubbed his hair and body clean, wishing he could scrub his soul clean, too. Ducking under the water one last time, he rinsed off and was finished.

Beth was waiting for him on the bank, towel extended, much like he had done for her. Daryl's hands flew instinctively to the scars that mottled the lower portion of his abdomen, thankful that she couldn't see the far worse ones that littered his back. There was no pity in her eyes, just a kind understanding as she shook the towel closer to him, encouraging him to grab it. When he did, she busied herself once more, kneeling to dig in her bag again, producing some deodorant and tossing it onto the pile of clean clothing she'd laid out for him.

Daryl wasn't used to being taken care of. Ever. Instead of thanking her, he cut the tension he felt with a lopsided grin, teasing her. "Ya tryin' ta tell me somthin', Greene?"

"Is it obvious?" She shot back, not missing a beat. "I'll give you a minute. I hope those fit," she waved her hand towards the clothing."Pickin's were slim." Then she walked off, dragging a brush through her tangled damp hair.

Daryl dried off quickly, following Beth's example and removed his soaked boxer shorts while keeping the towel wrapped firmly around his waist. He was comfortably dressed in a matter of minutes and admittedly, it felt good to be clean, even if he did smell like a damn strawberry. He was secretly pleased that she knew him well enough to grab him dickies instead of jeans. They were a bit big in the waist, but nothing his belt wouldn't fix. He turned to ask Beth where it was, and was startled to find her standing right behind him, his belt in her outstretched hands. He wondered how long she'd been standing there.

"It would be easier if your shirt was off," Beth said, pulling the scissors out of her back pocket. "Please," she added, less demanding.

Daryl sighed, preparing to tell her no, but as if she was once again sensing his insecurities, she bent and retrieved his towel, shook it off and offered it to him. A compromise. How could he refuse when she was so damn reasonable? He accepted the towel and started undoing the buttons of his shirt as he followed her downstream to the hollowed out stump that would serve as his salon chair.

Shirking his shirt, Daryl flopped down on the stump, wrapping the towel protectively around his shoulders like a shield and blew out an impatient breath. He wasn't a fan of haircuts. Sitting for long periods of time drove him crazy. If he wasn't keeping himself busy, the racing thoughts in his mind would kick into overdrive. He propped his crossbow on the side of the stump and draped his shirt over it, not bothering to hide the annoyance that was written all over his face.

Beth moved behind him and started dragging her comb down the back of his hair, careful not to jostle his towel. She was gentle, using long, even strokes until all the knots were removed. Daryl had to admit, it felt kind of good, relaxing even. She parted his hair in the middle and with quick, steady hands, began cutting the sides of his hair, working her way to the back.

"You done this before?" Daryl said. It was more a statement than a question.

"Mmm hmm," Beth nodded. "Patricia taught me." She paused a moment laying her hand on Daryl's shoulder. "I used ta cut Daddy's hair all the time ..." Her voice trailed off softly, laced with unspoken pain.

Daryl reached up, placing his hand on top of hers in a comforting gesture, their index fingers locking briefly. No words were needed. He knew the loss of her father still weighed heavily on her heart, probably always would. He wasn't good with words anyway, but he could be there for her like this and he hoped that was good enough.

Beth gained her composure, her focus returning to her task and ran the comb through Daryl's hair once more before picking up her scissors again. Her hands were soft and gentle as she tilted his head this way and that to have a better view or better access to the angle she needed. When she reached the nape of his neck, he knew maneuvering around the towel had become an obstacle.

Daryl tensed and with a heavy sigh, released his grip on the towel, allowing it to slip lower on his back, exposing some of his scarred flesh to her eyes. He braced himself for the questions, the horror, the pity ...but none came. Instead, Beth began humming that familiar tune and continued trimming the hair at the nape of his neck. Daryl willed himself to try and relax a little, absorbing her feather light touches and the sweet sound of her voice. When she was finished with the back of his head, she returned the scissors to her back pocket and began softly brushing the fallen hair from his neck and shoulders. After a brief moment of hesitation, her gentle hands moved past his shoulders to quickly swipe down the exposed portion of his back, accidentally knocking the towel to the ground at her feet.

Daryl froze, immediately tensing back up, his spine ramrod straight and his fists clenching at his sides. He felt naked and ashamed and cursed himself for his bad judgment in allowing Beth to see the source of his insecurities. He didn't want pity, least of all from her! Daryl felt the rage building in the pit of his stomach and forced it back down. He wouldn't lash out at Beth. This was his fault, not hers, he should have never lowered the towel! The silence stretched between them and Daryl wished he could roll up in a ball and disappear. His heart racing, he imagined that if he turned around, he'd find Beth recoiling in horror. His hand reached for his shirt, preparing to flee when he felt the comforting weight of the towel returned to his shoulders, his protective armor back in place.

Beth squeezed his shoulder gently, then moved to stand in front of him, dragging her comb through his hair once more. Daryl slowed his breathing, allowing his heart rate to return to normal. _Was she disgusted? Repulsed?_  His questioning eyes peered up at her through the hair hanging in his face, but he couldn't read anything but concentration in her expression. Producing her scissors once more, she inched closer to his body, pressing her small frame between his thighs.

Daryl's fingers twitched as he was suddenly very aware of their proximity. The air had grown heavy, suffocating him. He drew in a ragged breath, then forced it back out of his lungs. In and out. In and out. _Breathe_ , he reminded himself. She was almost done. It was just a haircut. She was almost done.  _Breathe_.


	4. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up between Daryl and Beth as an innocent haircut goes awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this installment. If you're so inclined, I recommend listening to Live's All Over You (from the album Throwing Copper), as it definitely gave me much needed inspiration. Love for my "editors" and thanks for reading! ~ Lis

 

_Breathe_ , he told himself again, all traces of coherent thought fleeing as Beth braced her hands on his thighs and lowered herself into a kneeling position between his legs. She was too close, her presence invading all of Daryl's senses at once. She was combing his hair again, this time forward and into his face. The hair tickled Daryl's nose but he stayed absolutely still and tried to focus on something, anything other than Beth Greene and where she was seated. It would be easier to douse the flames of hell, he thought dryly.

His face now partially hidden, Daryl let his eyes wander over Beth's features, taking them in, committing them to memory. The way her delicate brows arched over the almond shapes of her deep blue eyes. Her long lashes that sometimes spilled over her cheeks when she was deep in thought and her little nose that often wrinkled when she laughed. Her brows were furrowed now, her bottom lip held captive between her teeth as she concentrated.

Beth had pulled her hair back again and Daryl cursed that little black elastic band, wishing it would have gotten washed away in the stream. His fingers twitched, itching to pull it out and let her hair tumble free again. He imagined it would be soft to the touch, like spun gold. He knew it would smell like strawberries.

His eyes followed the curve of her jaw to the gentle slope of her neck, where her pulse beat in her throat. He imagined what it would be like to follow that path with his mouth, painting kisses on her soft skin and feeling her pulse beat beneath his lips. Daryl could feel his own pulse picking up speed as his growing desire began clouding his judgment. His gaze dipped lower to the curvature of her collar bone and lower still to the hollow between her breasts where her cross pendant rested. It glistened in the sun, taunting him.

Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin as Beth suddenly grasped his thighs and hauled herself back into a standing position.

"Almost done," she crooned softly. "Just a few of these longer ones here on the top, and you might actually look civilized, Mr. Dixon."

She was leaning over him now, her cross pendant taunting him again, dangling right in front of his nose. Daryl could see the outline of her breasts, her nipples straining against the fabric of her tank top. Beth wasn't wearing a bra. Of course she wasn't, it was tossed upstream in the pile of clothing she'd scrubbed clean after their baths. Daryl let out a shaky breath and dropped his gaze lower where the exposed skin of her hips peeked out above the waistband of her jeans, his fingers itching to grasp her there and pull her closer.

"All done," Beth announced with finality, stepping back to admire her work. She leaned forward again to run her fingers through his hair, then began to brush the stray hairs from his shoulders and down the front of his chest.

Still heady with desire, Beth's soft hands on his bare chest was Daryl's undoing. He snatched them, pulling her none to gently down into his lap. She was startled at first, but then melted herself against his body, as if it was natural, as if she belonged there. With uncertain hands, Daryl found the black elastic band in her hair and tugged it free, spilling Beth's long waves down her back. She was watching him, her eyes large with curiosity and something else. Anticipation? Fear?

Daryl studied her, wishing he could see what she was thinking. He knew he should set her down and stop this foolishness, but his arms felt like lead, and of their own volition, tightened possessively around her waist. Beth's eyes drifted closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips, sapping away what was left of Daryl's self restraint. His hands traveled up the length of her spine, weaving themselves into the silky waves of her hair, guiding her face closer as he covered her mouth with his own.

Daryl's kiss wasn't soft and gentle like Beth's had been. It was hard and possessive, his tongue forcing its way past her lips and into the warm recesses of her mouth, claiming the uncharted territory, claiming her. Beth stiffened momentarily in his arms, but then she was kissing him back with the same desperation, dropping the scissors, her arms coming up to snake around his neck, needing to be closer.

Daryl broke the kiss, his teeth dragging across her bottom lip, stretching it as he pulled away. Beth whimpered, her lips swollen from their rough treatment and leaned back into him, wanting more. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he stopped her advances, tugging her head back and exposing the pale smoothness of her neck to his greedy mouth. He kissed down the curve of her jaw to her throat, nipping and licking, following the path his eyes had taken minutes earlier, Beth's throaty moans spurring him on, giving him courage. His head dipped lower, kissing her from one side of her collarbone to the other, while she adjusted herself in his lap, straddling him and pressing his face closer, her own hands now fisting in his hair, neither noticing the towel slipping from his shoulders once again.

Daryl's hands fumbled for the hem of Beth's tank top, easing it up and over her head and tossing it to the ground. Her hands moved immediately to cover her breasts, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Yer beautiful," his voice, a raspy whisper, sounded foreign to his own ears. They were both panting, their eyes taking each other in. Slowly, Beth lowered her hands and Daryl reached up to cup one of her breasts, rubbing his thumb over the nipple. Beth threw her head back, the sensation of his rough palms on her smooth skin causing her to moan loudly.

Their mouths met again, their tongues demanding, each battling for dominance. Daryl grabbed Beth's hips, grinding them against his own so she could feel the evidence of his growing desire, his actions eliciting a feral growl from somewhere deep inside of her. She rocked her hips back against him, digging her nails into his shoulders, pressing herself into him, not being able to get close enough.

Completely enveloped in the sensations wracking his body, it took Daryl a moment to realize the moans in his ears weren't just coming from Beth. Three Walkers stumbled out of the brush, advancing on them, their decaying arms reaching out for their next meal. Daryl had no time to think, only act. He hauled himself up abruptly, sending Beth crashing to the ground while he grabbed up his crossbow and shot the closest one between the eyes. It fell, knocking the one directly behind it off balance and buying them a few extra seconds.

With no time to reload, Daryl brought his crossbow up and smashed it into the skull of the next Walker, sending it spilling to the ground with its fallen comrade. Beth scrambled to her feet and charged the last one with her scissors, bringing it down with practiced precision, its blood splattering across her naked torso.

Daryl bent down, snatching his shirt from the grass and jerked his arms into it angrily, quickly fastening the buttons. "What the hell ya go jumpin' in like Rambo fer, girl? I had it covered!" He snapped, tossing the towel at her.

Beth blanched, catching the towel and covering her nakedness, suddenly embarrassed. "Daryl, I was only -"

"You wasn't thinking', is what!" Daryl cut her off, his temper flaring. "S'pose I'd a fired another one of my arrows, huh? It'd gone right through ya!" Angrily, he stalked to her side, grabbing her roughly by her upper arms. "Ya hurt?" He asked, turning her none to gently so he could check her for injuries. Her blue eyes large with hurt and confusion, Beth stared up at him, unblinking. "Answer me. You hurt, girl?" He asked again, loosening his grip, his voice softening.

"Take yer hands off me!" Beth yelled back, the hurt and confusion in her eyes now replaced with anger of her own. "I can take care of myself!" She jerked herself free from his grasp and shoved past him, stomping to the stream. She quickly splashed herself clean then turned, her eyes scanning the ground for her tank top.

Daryl was quicker, scooping it up and offering it to her. She snatched it from him, shrugging it on. "And another thing," she regarded him with cool blue eyes, "Quit callin' me Girl. Seems to me I was all woman a few minutes ago, or did ya forget?"

Daryl stood stoic, his emotions now in check. If looks could kill, he'd of been Beth's second casualty today. He wracked his brain for a witty comeback, but came up empty. "Get yer shit. It's time ta go," was all that came to mind.

... PT 2 ...

Daryl's mood had gone from bad to worse by the time they arrived back at the camp. Beth quickly brushed past him, ducking under the tin cans and disappeared towards her tent without saying a single word. Daryl forced down the urge to call her back, knowing it was futile. She was still angry with him, he knew it and there was no reason to poke the hornets nest. Well damn it, he was angry, too!

Seeing her standing over that dead Walker, scissors in hand and blood splattered across her naked skin, had stirred such a deep sense of primal fear inside of him. It shook Daryl to his core and left him completely unnerved. Sure, he'd felt for the safety of his family before, but this was different. It went deeper. He didn't understand it. Truth was, he wasn't mad at Beth at all. She was quick on her feet and had acted fast, if anything, he should have been proud of her, but he just couldn't stop thinking what if ... He shook his head, he didn't even want to think about that.

Perhaps it was better this way, her being angry with him. Maybe she would keep her distance now, because Daryl wasn't sure he had the strength to resist her anymore. He knew she was breaking down what was left of his walls, chiseling her way through all his defenses. She was so damned intuitive, like she knew and understood what he was feeling even before he did. The funny thing was, Daryl knew it wasn't even intentional. Beth was just being Beth.

The smell of roasted rabbit hung in the air, distracting him from his thoughts and reminding Daryl he hadn't eaten anything since last night. His stomach growled in protest as he watched Carol turn the spit. She looked up at him, then looked away quickly. Confused, Daryl turned and dropped his crossbow beside his usual tree, wondering just what the hell had crawled up her ass. Dealing with women was mentally exhausting, which is why he had always preferred not to.

Daryl leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms over his chest and watched everyone bustle about, again wishing for four walls so he could have some privacy, some quiet time to think things through. He didn't like any of them being this exposed, especially the baby. Maybe they'd be better off finding some place to hole up for the winter and head for DC in the spring? More than likely Abe would have a problem with that, but the groups safety was more important, as far as Daryl was concerned. He knew he could convince Rick if he got a few minutes alone with him. Eugene saving the world sounded like a bunch bullshit to him, anyway. Especially after what Jenner had told them back at the CDC.

Daryl's eyes scanned the camp, looking for Beth. She was over by Abe's tent, hanging up their wet clothing, that stupid mutt on her heels, as usual. As if sensing he was watching, Beth turned her blue eyes on him, and sent a scathing look in his direction. Daryl had the immature urge to stick his tongue out at her, but thought better of it. He was already in hot water. Besides, it was best he keep his tongue as far away from Beth Greene as possible.

Daryl ran an impatient hand through his now much shorter hair, and slid down the length of the tree and into a sitting position. He had really screwed things up. _Again_. If those Walkers hadn't stumbled upon them, would he have been able to stop himself? It wasn't like him to be so sexually aggressive, especially not without alcohol flowing through his veins and giving him liquid courage. It was just different somehow with Beth, and she had felt so good,  _so God damned good_  in his arms!

Deep down Daryl knew he should regret touching her, kissing her ... But he didn't. In fact, being with Beth was the only time Daryl felt like things were alright, like he could be himself. Like he could be better. He still couldn't believe he had let her see his scars. Daryl had never let anyone intentionally lay eyes on the permanent reminder of his shameful past. Those who had happened to catch a glimpse had all reacted the same way, with pity and horror and endless questions. Questions he didn't want to answer. Pity he didn't want or need. But not Beth.

Daryl drug his knees up to his chest and hugged them, needing comfort but finding none. He knew he should go apologize to her for being such an ass and overreacting at the stream, but he wasn't going to, because he was a coward. Instead, he heaved himself up from the tree, intent on finding Rick. He'd had enough of feeling sorry for himself for one day.

As if he conjured him up from his very thoughts, Rick appeared from around the tree. His solemn expression made Daryl nervous.

"Can I have a word with you in private?" Rick asked, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Sure man," Daryl answered, grabbing up his bow and shouldering it. "I was actually just comin' ta find ya."

Rick nodded, leading Daryl into the cluster of trees behind the camp, away from the group so they could have some privacy. They made sure to stay within shouting distance, just in case.

Taking his usual stance, Rick placed his hands on his hips and wasted no time getting straight to the point. "Something' goin' on between you and Beth?"

Daryl was taken aback. For a brief moment, he thought about lying, but this was Rick. This was his brother. "Any particular reason yer askin'?" Daryl avoided the question with a question of his own.

"Yeah," Rick nodded. "I wanna know." He said simply, his tone and demeanor calm.

Daryl slumped his shoulders and released a heavy sigh. "I don't really know," he gave Rick the most honest answer he had. He really didn't know. He wasn't ready to confront that just yet.

"Beth's not a little girl anymore, Daryl," Rick said matter of factly. "I can't tell her what ta do anymore than I can tell you." He paused, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Do you want ta be with her?"

It was a simple enough question, but Daryl didn't have a simple answer. "I care bout her," Daryl mumbled, kicking the dirt at his feet in frustration.

Rick rubbed the stubble on his jaw, weighing his answer for a moment, then leaned forward and grasped Daryl's shoulder. "I think most of us know you well enough ta know you won't hurt her." Daryl gave a short nod and Rick continued. "But she is Hershel's daughter and practically the mother of my child and she deserves respect. Be with her or don't, but make a decision." He finished with a supportive pat, then withdrew his hand, resting it back on his hip. "She deserves no less."

Daryl nodded again, contemplating the weight of Rick's words. Rick was right, he did have a decision to make.

"There was somthin' you needed ta tell me?" Rick asked, dragging Daryl from his thoughts of Beth.

"I think we need ta find somethin' a lil' more permanent than just some tents fer the winter. Further north we go, colder it's gon' get. Supplies are runnin' low." Daryl replied, tucking Beth safely in the back of his mind for the moment.

"I know," Rick agreed. "Been thinkin' the same thing, just not sure how ta approach Abe wit it."

"He could always go his own way," Daryl offered.

Rick agreed, nodding his head. "He could, but we're stronger with him. I'll talk to him tonight. Maybe a vote? We need to get back on the road now that everyone's rested. We've been safe here so far, but I don't want ta press our luck," he said, motioning for them to head back towards camp.

"Beth and I ran into some Walkers at the stream earlier," Daryl said, cringing as the memory of Beth charging the Walker with scissors replayed in his mind. "Three," he finished, knowing Rick would ask. "Clustered in a group."

They had reached the perimeter of the camp, the hum of the group reaching their ears before they could even see them only intensified Daryl's need to find shelter. He knew Rick had to be thinking the same thing from the uneasy expression he was wearing. Judith was wailing, her cries bouncing off the trees.

Rick sighed, "She's cuttin' teeth."

Daryl nodded, understanding. Babies cried. This was no way to live. He lifted the string of cans, preparing to duck under, when Rick's hand on his arm brought him back.

"Carol knows." Rick had a wary, almost apologetic look in his eyes.

Daryl nodded again. Wasn't much else to say. Of course she knew, she had seen him with Beth earlier, witnessed the tender moment they'd shared when he'd wiped the blood from her cheek. Carol knew he didn't make it a practice to touch people, let alone allow someone to touch him. Her refusal to look him in the eyes earlier, now making perfect sense. "She told you?" Daryl asked with a frown.

"Yes," Rick replied. "But I already knew. Had an inkling since that day by the truck, when you told me she was gone. The look in yer eyes..." Rick let his voice trail off as he ducked under the perimeter line, leaving Daryl to ponder his words.


	5. You'll Break Her Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl have watch duty together again and Carol has some less than encouraging words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember the end of this chapter taking me a bazillion rewrites to work out all the right "feels" and my "editors" were as always, my saving grace! Thanks for reading! ~ Lis

Wordlessly, Daryl followed Rick back into camp. Carol was dishing out the food, everyone passing plates around and eagerly digging in. Beth was sitting back a ways from the fire by Gabriel, balancing a fussy Lil' Asskicker on one thigh, her plate on the other, the scroungy mutt squeezed in between them. She looked up at him as he passed by, the anger in her eyes gone now and replaced with worry. Why was she worried? Daryl wondered if perhaps Rick had said something to her, too. Beth winced as Judith reached up and grabbed a fist full of her hair, causing some potatoes to roll off of her plate.

Ignoring the little warning voice in his head, Daryl turned back, and plucked Judith from her lap. "Eat," he mumbled. It was more a request than an order. At least, he hoped that was the way she took it, as he took a seat by Tyrese and blew raspberries at Judith, evoking giggles from her little heart shaped, slobbery mouth. He did his best to ignore some of the questioning looks tossed in his direction, giving the baby his full attention. Before he knew it, Beth had finished eating and was kneeling before him to scoop up a now thoroughly sleepy Judy, mouthing the words "thank you," before disappearing into Rick's tent.

Rick came to sit beside him, handing him a plate of food which Daryl eagerly accepted, tearing right into it, his hunger returning full force. The rabbit was a bit overcooked, but it was real meat and it was good to know what a full stomach felt like again.

"Sure missed your hunting, Daryl." Sasha said, settling deeper into Bob's embrace. He winced momentarily, his shoulder still tender, carefully wrapping his arms tighter around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"I'm just glad it wasn't squirrel," Glenn chimed in.

"S'wrong wit squirrel?" Daryl asked, pretending to be insulted.

"It's not a cheeseburger," Michonne answered from the branch of the tree she was perched on, her wry sarcasm earning her some chuckles from the crowd.

It was beginning to get dark and some of the group were ready to turn in, they sat around patiently awaiting instructions from Rick.

"Same alternate watch schedule. Try ta get as much rest as possible, we'll be on the road by first light, " Rick announced, setting his plate down beside him. He stood, making his way to Abe and motioning him away from the group. "Get some sleep, Carl," he called, disappearing from view with Abe.

Daryl watched them walk away, hoping Abe would be agreeable. If he valued Eugene's safety as much as his boasted, then finding him a safe place for the winter should be equally important. They would never survive a winter on the road with so little food, no shelter, no vehicles and a teething baby.

Daryl made his way back to his tree, watching the camp settle in like he did every night. Maggie was just coming off watch, she nodded at him before stopping to kick dirt on the fire then ducked into the tent she shared with Glenn. Beth still hadn't emerged from Rick's tent. He could hear Judith's little grunts of frustration as she fought her sleep, watched as Carl left the tent and headed to Beth's, as Lil' Asskicker began full blown wailing.

Daryl glanced around nervously and with a heavy sigh padded quietly to Rick's tent stopping briefly at the entrance before lifting the flap and entering, his actions surprising himself as well as Beth. She stood in the corner by Judith's Pack-N-Play, rocking the baby and softly humming that familiar tune. He kept meaning to ask her what the song was, where it was from? Poor Mama Beth, even in Judith's agitated state she remained calm and collected with the patience of a Saint.

Daryl slid his crossbow off his shoulder, dropping it by the entrance of the tent and closed the distance between them, reaching for Judith. He folded the baby in his arms, cradling her gently against his shoulder. "Shhhh sweetheart," he whispered softly, his lips pressing against the downy softness of her hair. "Go on an stop fightin' it. Shhhh."

Judith quieted, her angry little balled up fists relaxing now, her teary eyes drifting closed. Beth was watching the two of them intently, a serene expression on her face. Daryl continued rocking the baby a few minutes more, before bending to settle her gently in her bed, Beth's arms brushing against his as she lifted the covers over Judith.

Her face serious, Beth whispered "Judith gets it."

"Gets what?" Daryl asked, keeping his voice low.

"People feel safe around you Daryl," Beth answered, moving into the circle of his arms. "Safe in your arms."

She pressed her cheek against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in her warmth. A pained look on his face, Daryl closed his eyes, and succumbing to his feelings for just a moment, wound his arms around her, holding her in place. Laying his cheek upon the top of her head, he inhaled the strawberry scent of her hair, wishing they could stay this way forever.

It was Beth who broke the silence. "I'm sorry 'bout earlier today, by the stream. I didn't mean to make you angry ..." She let her voice trail off, her breath tickling the exposed skin above the buttons on Daryl's shirt.

Daryl stiffened, feeling like he just got kicked in the gut. "Don't," he said, his words failing him. She hadn't done a thing wrong and here she was as humble as ever, trying to make amends. It broke his heart. Daryl ran his hands up and down Beth's back, memorizing the ridges of her spine, searching for the right words to make her understand why he'd lashed out at her. But how in the hell was he supposed to make her understand when he still couldn't make heads or tails of it himself?

"I wasn't mad, just felt sick as a dog at the idea'r losing you," he said finally, deciding honesty was after all, the best policy.

Beth sighed softly, her arms tightening around him. "I won't leave you," she whispered into his chest.

She had said those words before. The ugly memory of that night forced its way back into the front of Daryl's mind. The night she'd been snatched away. The night he had failed to save her.  _Worthless. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Beth looked up at him, pulling Daryl from his mantra. "We should prob'ly get some rest," she said. "Our watch will be here before ya know it and we have a long day of walkin' ahead of us, tomorrow. Guess I'll just stay here. I already chased Carl ta my tent an' I wanna be here in case she wakes up again." She cast a glance to Judith, sleeping peacefully in her bed. "Maybe we can find a pharmacy, there's gotta be somethin' for teethin."

Daryl shrugged, "Find some whisky. Rub a lil' that on 'er gums, should do the trick."

Beth smiled, stretching up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "G'night Daryl."

"Night, Greene," Daryl replied, reluctant to release her. He did though, and grabbing up his bow, he exited Rick's tent and made his way back to his tree.

Settling into the rough bark, Daryl momentarily regretted not setting up his tent. What he wouldn't give to have his lumpy prison cot back, and a soft pillow to lay his head on. All the more reason to set up some permanent shelter, he thought, stroking the hair on his chin. Daryl shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts so sleep would come. He needed rest, it would be time for him and Beth to keep watch soon. Daryl smiled despite himself, ignoring the little jolt of excitement running through him, refusing to admit it had anything to do with the prospect of being alone with Beth Greene again.

\- Part Two -

_Her hands were soft and gentle and a little nervous as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Daryl moved to help her, realizing his hands were just as clumsy and with a grunt of frustration, tore his shirt open, sending buttons scattering everywhere. Daryl didn't care, he needed her to touch him, needed to feel Beth's soothing hands on his skin. Grasping her face in his hands, he kissed her thoroughly, passionately, sapping away what was left of either of their resolve. Their hands were lost in the buttons and buckles of clothing, moving as quickly as they could to free themselves of the cumbersome barrier that was keeping them apart. And then the clothing was all gone and Beth was laying gloriously naked beneath him, her arms open, her eyes warm and inviting. She smiled up at him, grasping his arms, pulling him down on top of her and then she vanished into thin air ..._

Daryl awoke with a start. His brain was still fuzzy from sleep, but he could hear voices nearby. He shook his head, willing his eyes to focus. He could make out two figures in the darkness ahead of him. They were speaking quietly and he strained his ears to hear them.

"You need your rest being up half the night with that baby."

It was Carol.

"Its okay," the other voice said. "I'm used ta it. Been doin' it fer awhile now."

And Beth.

"Just because you're used to it, doesn't make it okay. Look, I'm not disputing you can't share the load, dear, but taking care of Judith is your number one priority. I'm already up. We'll be on foot all day, please ...go get some rest," Carol insisted. "I already sent Carl back to his own bed and cleared the switch with Rick."

"Okay," Beth agreed reluctantly. Turning, she made her way back to the tent she shared with Tara and Michonne, casting a glance in the direction of Daryl's tree before ducking under the flap and disappearing from view.

Daryl blew out a shaky breath, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face trying to shake the dream he just had. Nightmare was more like it, he thought dryly, remembering how Beth had disappeared ...just like that night. He hauled himself up and grabbed his bow, feeling like he needed Beth now more than ever, frustrated that Carol had taken it upon herself to turn her away. He supposed she was right, Beth needed her strength, she needed rest and he shouldn't be selfishly thinking of himself.

"Restless night?" Carol asked, moving to his side and shouldering her rifle.

"Somethin' like that," Daryl agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. "Thought you was on watch last night," he observed.

"I was. Thought you could use some company." She paused, as if waiting on a cue from him.

Daryl ran an impatient hand through his hair, beginning to walk the line of the perimeter. "Got somethin' you wanna say?"

Carol nodded. "Plenty, actually."

"No time like the present," Daryl replied.

Carol looked uncomfortable. "We're still friends, right?"

"Course we are," Daryl snorted, growing tired of playing cat and mouse and wishing Carol would just get to the point.

"Why didn't you tell me?," she asked, shifting the strap of her rifle. "About Beth, when were you gonna tell me?"

Daryl felt the stirrings of anger in his gut. "Nothin' ta tell," he replied, surprising himself at how calm he sounded.

"Now we're lying to each other?" Carol asked, pushing the issue.

Daryl wheeled around, "Yer one ta talk! How bout Karen and David, huh? Standin' behind me actin' like you didn't have a clue!"

His words brought tears to her eyes, and Carol quickly wiped them away. "I deserve that," she replied. "I stepped up, I did what I thought was best for the group, to protect us."

"I defended you," Daryl shot back at her. "Why didn't you come to me? Ya had no right to make that decision on yer own!"

"I've made my peace with Tyrese," Carol answered him quietly. "I can't change what I did, its in the past. No need to rehash it."

"Tyrese isn't the only one ya betrayed though," Daryl turned from her, scanning the darkness for any signs of Walkers.

"She's too young," Carol continued, changing the subject. "She's a nice young woman, she deserves to be with a nice young man."

"She's a grown woman," Daryl shot back, remembering Rick's words. Beth wasn't a child anymore. "Its not yer business, Carol."

"You'll hurt her Daryl, " she persisted. "I know you. You're gonna wake up one day and realize this isn't what you wanted and you'll break her heart."

"What makes ya think ya know me?" Daryl replied, fingering the strap on his crossbow. "People change Carol, ya may think ya know, but this world, it changes people, makes 'em realize whats important."

Carol was indignant. "You think you love her Daryl, is that it? Because when I first met you the only things you loved were hunting and that ass of a brother of yours."

Daryl flinched at the mention of Merle, turning and moving toward her. Carol knew she had struck a chord, she didn't recoil, but she took a cautious step backwards.

"Yeah, and you used to quake under a mans shadow," Daryl threw back at her, realizing he was intimidating her, her took a step back. "Maybe you still do, but I ain't Ed." Daryl let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. "After the prison fell, I was lost, I had nothin' ta go on fer. I wanted ta just give up. Felt like bein' stuck wit Beth was my punishment fer lettin' everyone down, like she was the chain 'round my neck, the constant reminder that I failed her, you, everyone." Daryl said, throwing his arms around for emphasis. "Watchin' her dad get murdered, losin' her sister, I couldn't fix that. I was s'posed ta be helpin' her, but I was blind ta who Beth really was. This girl that I never really paid any mind ta, somehow knew me better than anyone. She brought me back, pulled me from the darkness, made me feel like wantin' ta be close ta someone." His voice cracking with emotion, Daryl went on, "I don't know if I love her, but I know I care bout her more than I ever cared bout anyone or anythin'. Is that what you wanted ta hear?" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Yer all bout survival, Carol. I'm tired of just survivin', I wanna live."

Carol sighed, defeated. "I always wanted to help you, Daryl. My own issue's just drug me down ...got in the way."

Wiping at the new batch of tears streaking her cheeks, Carol switched her rifle to the other shoulder and walked away, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts.

"You did help me," Daryl replied softly, knowing full well that a part of him would always love Carol for the important role she played in his life, but things between them would never be the same.


	6. Over Anticipate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group is back on the road and Daryl gets jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very, very special thanks to Ben for the head canon that inspired this whole darn story, which transformed into the theme of this chapter. Also, a special thanks to Pat for her inspiring scientific rhetoric regarding the human anatomy! ;) Enjoy this installment loves! ~ Lis

Three days non-stop on the road brought them to the Georgia border, a big road sign declaring "You are now entering Hayesville, North Carolina. Population: 320" stood like a beacon on the side of the highway. A welcome sight for sore eyes, indeed. Abe had reluctantly agreed to hunker down for the winter, but only when they crossed out of Georgia. Perfect timing, as far as Daryl was concerned, the sun was already beginning to dip low in the afternoon sky and he was sick to death of walking.

A cluster of abandoned vehicles littered the highway ahead of them. Daryl, Rick and Abe approached them cautiously, waving the others back, Glenn, Maggie and Sasha guarding the rear, Michonne and Tyrese on either side. The vehicles were all empty but for one smashed up tan Toyota Corolla with a decaying female Walker pinned against the steering wheel. Rick silenced it with a quick knife thrust through the temple.

"Everyone, stay close. See what you can find," Rick addressed the group, then turned to Daryl and Abe. "Think maybe we can salvage a vehicle or two?"

Daryl shrugged. "Worth a shot," he said, laying his crossbow on the roof of a black Ford pickup. He opened the cab door, surprised to find the keys dangling from the ignition. He turned the key and the engine roared to life, sputtered and then stalled. "It's outta gas," he said, tapping on the gas gauge.

"Let's see what we can syphon," Abe suggested, shouldering his rifle. "Don't take your eyes off of him," he ordered Rosita, thumbing in Eugene's direction.

Daryl rolled his eyes, moving to the blue Chevy Cavalier behind the truck. The way Abe was constantly babying Eugene, you'd think they were in love. Eugene was alright, Daryl supposed, but if he was the key to saving the world, they were all in deep shit. Daryl still had his doubt's and figured he wasn't alone in them. Honestly, Daryl just wished the guy would shut the hell up with his endless babbling. It didn't help his cause that he'd been paying an awful lot of attention to Beth lately, either.

Rosita pulled a black rubber hose from her pack and handed it to Abe while Rick checked the gas gauges of the other vehicles, the others scavenging for anything useful. Carl produced a pair of jumper cables and an empty gas can from the trunk of the tan Corolla and handed them off to his dad.

Ducking down under the steering wheel, Daryl began ripping at the wires under the dash, giving a satisfied grunt as the car turned over. He climbed out and tapped on the hood. "This ones got plenty of gas. Let 'er run fer a few an charge up the battery."

Rick smiled as he and Abe finished pouring what gas they had syphoned from the Corolla into the pickup. "That's two. A good day, indeed."

Daryl kept one eye on Beth, who handed Judith off to Tara and began rifling through a silver Jeep Wrangler. She pulled something out from under the passenger seat and quickly shoved it in her bag. What was that girl being so secretive about, Daryl wondered. "Beth," he called out to her. "That jeep have keys in it?"

"Not in the ignition," she replied, reaching for the glovebox. It was locked. Cautiously, she pulled out her knife and moved to the drivers side, stepping on a ring of keys by the driver's side door. "Wait! I found 'em," she called back, scooping them up and climbing excitedly into the drivers seat. She turned the key. Nothing. "I think its dead," she frowned, her disappointment evident.

Daryl joined her, propping his crossbow on the passenger side door, he leaned on the door frame, an amused grin on his face.

"What's so funny?" Beth asked, not sharing his amusement.

"Ya gotta push in the clutch," he instructed her. "Or put it neutral. It won't start if its in gear."

"Oh," Beth replied with a nonchalant flip of her ponytail. "I knew that," she said, glancing down at the pedals apprehensively.

Daryl chuckled. "The one all the way to the left," he said, throwing up his hands in mock defense as Beth fixed him with a stern look. "How'd ya grow up on a farm an not learn how ta drive stick?"

"I wasn't plowin' fields, Daryl," Beth rolled her eyes at him. She pushed the clutch in and turned the key, cringing when a loud clacking sound rang from the jeep.

"Batteries dead," Daryl explained, leaning over to check the gas gauge. It was half full. Perfect. "We'll jump it. Use the keys, check the glovebox." He turned to Rick, "This one needs a jump."

Daryl moved to the front of the jeep and tapped the hood, signaling Beth to pull the hood release. She pulled the lever, then leaned over the passenger seat to key into the glove compartment and rifled through its contents, finding a small handgun. She put the safety on and climbed out of the drivers seat, moving to the front of the jeep to stand beside Daryl who was checking the oil.

"Found a gun," she handed it to Daryl. "I put the safety on," she said, as he wiped his greasy hands on his handkerchief and then took the gun, inspecting it. "I'm gonna go see what else we can find."

"Clips full," Daryl said, reaching around and sticking it in her back pocket. "Hold onto it. Keep yer eyes an ears open, got it Greene?"

Beth nodded, moving back towards Tara and Judith, stopping to chuck the baby under her chin and adjusting her sun bonnet before heading to the next abandoned vehicle that wasn't currently being searched through or fixed.

Climbing into the Cavalier, Rick gave it a little gas, then turned the car around and pulled it up in front of the Jeep so Daryl could attach the jumper cables. "Think we should set up camp here fer the night, get back on the road in the morning?'", Rick asked, moving closer so they could hear each other over the loud hum of the Cavalier's engine.

Daryl glanced around briefly, taking in their surroundings. "Guess it'll do fer tonight. We should line the vehicles up in the front there," he said, pointing beyond the traffic jam, his eyes squinting against the low sun. "Camp between them, load up anythin' we ain't usin', so we can jus' go if we need to take off in a hurry."

Rick nodded, leaving Daryl to finish jumping the Jeep, while he turned to bark orders to the group to set up camp and load anything they didn't need for the night into the trunk of the Cavalier and the pickup truck.

Daryl climbed into the drivers side of the Jeep, pushed in the clutch and turned the key, the Jeep's quiet engine humming to life as he smirked. He'd be driving this, he thought to himself, shifting the Jeep into neutral and pulling up the emergency brake so it could run and charge the battery. As soon as they found a safe place, he was planning to teach Beth how to drive stick, intrigued that she was never far from his thoughts, no matter what he was doing.

"Hey Archer," Michonne surprised Daryl, jumping into the passenger seat. "You about done getting my new ride ready?" She flashed him her dazzling grin.

"Find yer own, Samurai," Daryl scoffed, teasing her back. "This ones mine. Need somethin'?" He asked her, his tone turning serious.

"Other than to annoy my favorite sweaty redneck friend? No." She flashed her million dollar smile once more before exiting the Jeep. "Better keep your eye on ol' Mullet," Michonne jerked her head in Eugene's direction.

"The hell do I care what he does?" Daryl asked, reaching up and unclasping the clips holding on the soft top of the Jeep, then climbing out. "Guys a moron. If any ya'll think he's the key ta savin' humanity, we're in deep shit," he said, lending voice to his earlier thoughts.

"I'm no fool," Michonne answered, helping him roll off and remove the soft top from the Jeep. "Just observing he's been quite focused on Lil' blonde Greene," her expression was serious, but her eyes were teasing.

"And?" Daryl asked, not bothering to masquerade his annoyance with the topic of their discussion.

They finished removing the top, rolling it as best they could and tucking into the tiny compartment in the back of the Jeep.

"Just sayin'," Michonne said with a wink, and was gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Daryl to shake his head at yet another puzzling exchange with another damn woman.

Daryl sighed, moving to the front of the Jeep and disconnecting the jumper cables, he closed the hoods of both vehicles. Why was he surprised that Michonne had picked up on whatever it was brewing between him and Beth? The woman was nothing if not highly observant. But if she had noticed, had anyone else, Daryl wondered? He cast a nervous look around the group. Everyone was busy still rummaging through cars and setting up camp, Sasha and Carl had already started scraping something together for dinner, Bob never to far from Sasha's side.

Rick was busy loading the back of the truck, so Daryl moved both the Cavalier and the Jeep, lining them up beside the pickup truck. He shouldered his bow, moving towards the group, his eyes immediately scanning for Beth, finding and settling on her, rummaging through the back of a station wagon with Maggie. They were digging through a suitcase full of women things, Glenn standing guard, trying to feign disinterest in the lacy things they were tossing about the back seat. Rosita joined them, Eugene in tow like a dutiful puppy.

Finding nothing of interest, Beth moved to the back, lifting the hatch to dig through the duffle bags and suitcases strewn about, finding several articles of clothing for Judith, she dumped one of the duffle bags and began stuffing the useful items into it. Toiletries, some men's flannel shirts, a pair of boots that looked to be Carl's size, Daryl noting that Beth was always thinking of others before herself. He leaned against one of the nearby cars, bending to scratch the scroungy one eyed mutt behind its ears, mumbling "stupid dog" under his breath while doing so.

Daryl shut his eyes, trying to ignore Eugene's inane rambling, wondering how a none to patient Abe constantly put up with it.

"Make yourself useful," Rosita barked at him from inside the station wagon. "Help Beth unload anything we need from the back and stack it there," she pointed to the open space by Daryl and the dog. "We'll load it in the cars when we're done."

Beth smiled at Eugene politely, as he moved to stand beside her, then continued with her task. She unzipped a book bag, finding some romance novels and tossed them into her bag with a sheepish look in Daryl's direction, her blush not going unnoticed by him, though he pretended otherwise.

"Uh, Daryl." Glenn called to him. "Wanna give me a hand, we got a few Walkers coming this way."

Daryl moved away from the mutt, moving with Glenn around the cars to take out the four decaying corpses advancing on them. One bolt, three head blows and they were taken care of. The bit of commotion commanding the attention of Rick and Abe, they came to the edge of the traffic jam, armed and ready.

"Taken care of," Daryl grunted, moving past them and repositioning himself closer to Beth. She had crawled completely into the hatch, her backside in the air as she stretched her upper body farther to reach the last suitcase and drag it closer. Daryl averted his gaze, trying his best not to stare, ignoring the little sparks of anger shooting through him that Eugene was openly admiring her assets. He was not jealous, he reasoned with himself. No, not jealous, just protective.

Oblivious to Daryl's annoyance with him, Eugene addressed him, "Ever notice how the physical properties of snug denim really lends itself to showcasing the physical attributes of a well toned gluteus maximus?"

"The hell you jus' say ta me?" Daryl shot away from the car, advancing on Eugene.

"You misunderstand, m'friend. I wasn't insulting you," Eugene continued, "In laymen's terms, I was just appreciating the young ladies nicely toned backside."

"Excuse me?" Beth called from inside the car.

Without further warning, Daryl dropped his bow and backhanded Eugene in the mouth, sending him sprawling back into the parked car behind him. Rick and Abe were there in an instant, Rick placing himself between Daryl and a red faced Abe who was advancing on Daryl, ready to strike.

"Have you lost yer damn mind, boy?" Abe barked at him.

"Put a leash on yer dog or teach em' some damn manners," Daryl shot back, shoving against Rick.

"Now let's just calm down," Rick yelled over them, placing his hand on Daryl's chest and pressing him back. "Back off, Daryl."

Daryl stepped back, retrieving his bow from the ground, everyone had gathered around now, their curious and shocked expressions wanting to know what the hell was going on. Regaining his footing, Eugene stood and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his face showing nothing but bewildered confusion. For some reason that pissed Daryl off even more. Angry and suddenly feeling self conscious, Daryl needed some distance to cool off. With an angry grunt, he heaved his bow up onto his shoulder and stalked off the side of the road, making a beeline for the cover of the trees.

Beth climbed out of the hatch, feeling almost as embarrassed as Daryl. Scooping up her backpack, she cast a nervous glance in Rick's direction, then took off towards the trees Daryl had disappeared through.

"Beth, wait!" Maggie called after her, climbing out of the station wagon intending to follow her sister, but Rick stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"She'll be fine," he reassured her. "I'm sure the two of you will have plenty ta talk about when she returns." Rick turned back to the group. "C'mon, shows over. Let's get back ta work."

\- PT 2 -

Daryl hadn't gone very far into the cover of the tree's when he heard the sound of small feet crunching on the underbrush behind him. Carefully covering his tracks, he left the trail, doubling back to put himself behind his pursuer, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the top of her golden hair peeking above the brush. Beth. He studied her, watching how she was tracking him, picking up the tell tale signs that he'd walked there moments before. He couldn't shove down the proud smile that teased the corners of his mouth. She was humming that tune again, this time putting words to it, Daryl strained his ears, trying to hear.

 _"I know that you're much older, an you've had many lovers, but there's no place I'd rather be than underneath the covers ... Next to you,"_ Beth paused, ducking under a low tree branch. _"An' I'm telling myself to be patient, an' I'm telling myself to wait, 'cause when it comes to your love, I over anticipate."_

Daryl silently leaned in closer, letting Beth's sweet voice wash over him.

 _"Could you fall in love with me? Ohhh. Will I solve this mystery? I'm bracing for a letdown, 'cause I know you like your space. But my head is full of love songs, that I just can't erase ... About you."_ Beth paused again, turning around as Daryl stepped out from the bushes that were concealing him. _"About you,"_ she sang again, her blue eyes holding him captive, pinning him in place.

"Ya should go back," Daryl said, suddenly feeling very shy.

"I should," Beth agreed, nodding her head. She took a deep breath and let her backpack slide to the forrest floor. "But I'm not goin' anywhere."

 

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song Over Anticipate by Emily Kinney. The song was borrowed for fictional purposes. Any lyrics used and its copyrights are the rightful property of their respective owners.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the song Over Anticipate by Emily Kinney. The song was borrowed for fictional purposes. Any lyrics used and its copyrights are the rightful property of their respective owners.


	7. Tell it to the Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She probably should go ....but she won't. Will Daryl finally give into to his desires? A revelation ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the (disbanded) MILF Squad at TWD forums. We may not talk anymore, but here's to shoulder freckles and memories .... Love for my "editors"! ~ Lis

 

"You're hurt," Beth said softly, indicating his bruised knuckles with a nod of her head. She kneeled and opened her pack, pulling out a bottle of peroxide and some clean bandages.

Daryl scoffed, "This lil' scratch? I won't let you waste that shit on me when there ain't much ta go 'round. I'll be fine."

"At least let me clean it," Beth persisted. "Stop bein' a stubborn ass and come here," she said firmly when Daryl didn't budge.

Angry that his body wouldn't obey his brain's command, Daryl gravitated towards her, kneeling in front of her and extending his right arm so she could clean his cracked knuckles. She gently took his hand, laying it in her lap and dabbed at the scrapes with a peroxide soaked cotton ball. It stung like a bitch, but Daryl kept his expression impassive, enjoying Beth's tender touch and the way his hand was resting on her thigh.

"I appreciate ya stickin' up fer me an' all, but did ya have ta deck him?" She asked, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah," Daryl answered simply, standing by his convictions. Eugene had gotten off easy as far as he was concerned. "Ya shouldn't have followed me."

"Well," Beth sighed, capping the peroxide, she tucked it back into her bag. "What's done is done."

Daryl stood abruptly, and put some distance between them. "Well I'm undoing it," he said with finality. "Go back. Its not far, stick ta the path an' you'll be fine."

"No," Beth said calmly, shaking her head. She stood slowly, brushing the dirt off of her knees.

"No?" Daryl blanched at her boldness. "Yes," he shot back, cursing himself for not coming up with something more witty than "yes".

"That's right," Beth replied calmly, raising to her full height and staring straight into his eyes. "I said no," she was not backing down. "If my presence offends you, then you leave."

"Me?" Daryl blanched again. "Why I ought ta -"

"What?" Beth interrupted him. "Spank the naughty little girl?" She baited him, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a child an' I'll go where I please, Daryl. An' with whom I please," she added for good measure.

Daryl opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut abruptly. She had gall, he'd give her that and he was sorely tempted to take her up on her suggestion, ashamed that the prospect excited him. Stubborn, frustrating creature! He wanted to shake her, then kiss her, or maybe kiss her and then shake her. Daryl wasn't sure in what order. He ran an impatient hand through his hair, feeling like a caged animal.

Beth took a brave step forward. "I'm tired of this, aren't you?" She asked, moving closer until they stood toe to toe.

Run! Every instinct Daryl had screamed at him. Run now! But he may as well have been standing in cement. He wanted this, he wanted her. She was the light, the guiding force and he wanted so badly to be worthy of her. More than anything he'd ever wanted in his pathetic existence.  _Worthless. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Beth moved closer still, pressing her frame against him, laying her small hands flat against his chest, she gazed courageously into his eyes. The smell of strawberries teasing his nostrils, as she stood up on tip toe and pressed a trail of soft kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth. Daryl closed his eyes, taking in the healing effect of Beth's feather light kisses, not understanding why she deemed him worthy of this, of her affections, but revelling in the moment all the same. She was doing it again, sapping him of his resistance and insecurities, pushing any and all rational thought from his mind.

Her hands sliding slowly up his chest, Beth's fingers found the top button of Daryl's shirt and worked it free. When he didn't protest, her nimble fingers moved to the second, and then the third and fourth. Parting his half unbuttoned shirt, she leaned over and pressed her lips to the bare skin of his chest, right above his heart.

That was it, her boldness, her proximity, her lips on his heated skin ...it was his undoing. With a pained groan, Daryl grabbed her face in his hands and ground his lips down upon hers in a rough, searing kiss. His tongue seeking out and finding her own, pushing it back and out of the way so he could taste the insides of her mouth, branding her as his, lest she forget it. Beth moaned her victory into his mouth, her arms circling around his neck, pulling him closer.

Daryl's hands moved around her throat and up the back of her neck, winding his hand around her ponytail, he tugged the cursed elastic band free, tangling his fingers through her hair as the golden waves spilled down her back. His hands moved lower, down her spine to encircle her waist, pulling her none to gently against him, producing another throaty moan from Beth, her own hands moving to tangle in his hair, pressing their faces closer.

Daryl broke the kiss, leaving a bruised mouthed Beth breathless. His lips moving to suckle the delicate spot behind her ear, burning a path of fiery kisses down her neck, his hands moving lower to cup her behind, clasping its supple softness and dragging his fingernails through the now infuriating denim, laying claim in his own way, swearing on all things holy that If Eugene, or any other man for that matter, so much as made a passing glance at her ass ever again, they'd find out the hard way why the Dixon brothers had been banned from almost every bar this side of Georgia!

Sliding his hand lower, Daryl grasped the back of one of her thighs, hooking it up over his hip, he ground against her, pressing her body against the growing evidence of his desire. Beth whimpered, her body turning to putty under his hands. He released her thigh, unable to contain his satisfied smirk when she wound her calf around his, leaving her leg in place, their inner thighs still pressing intimately together. Daryl drug his hands back up over her hips, tugging her blouse free from the waistband of her jeans and up over her head, purposely brushing the sides of her breasts with his hands, her nipples instantly hardening, straining against the fabric of her tank top.

Beth unhooked her thigh, lowering her leg and moving back a step, just enough to work at the remaining buttons of Daryl's shirt. For a moment, he thought about stopping her, but then her lips were on his throat, tasting the saltiness of his skin and the insecurities of his scars were forgotten as she pushed his shirt over his shoulders and it fell to the forest floor with her blouse. Beth ran her hands along his biceps marveling in the way his muscles bunched and moved under his skin. She grabbed the hem of her tank top and drew it up over her head with ease, baring her breasts to him. She wasn't shy this time.

Daryl sucked in a sharp breath, grabbing for her again, and pulling her flush with his chest, both of them gasping from the pleasure of skin on skin contact. He grabbed her backside again, lifting her up in his arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and their mouth's met once more, their tongue's once again battling for dominance.

His head foggy with desire and his legs turning to jelly, Daryl set her back down, reluctant to break the contact. Beth stumbled, dizzy from his kisses, and Daryl steadied her with one arm, while reaching out to cup one of her breasts with his free hand, then dipping his head, he brought her other breast to his mouth. Beth arched herself against him, throwing her head back with a low moan, as Daryl flicked his tongue and teeth across her nipples, delighting in bringing her pleasure.

Becoming bold once again, Beth reached for his belt buckle, working it free with trembling hands, her fingers moving for the button of his pants, but Daryl gently slapped them away.

"Not so fast, Greene," he breathed in her ear, watching the goosebumps that rose up on her flesh. If she touched him now, it would all be over, Daryl needed to pace himself.

He ran his hands down the length of her flat tummy, stopping to rest on the button closure of her pants, smirking as her breathing hitched. Slowly, he worked the button free and slid the zipper down, purposely brushing his knuckles against her inner thighs. She was clinging to his shoulders, her fingernails bit into the flesh of his arms, but you wouldn't catch him complaining any time soon.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, he slid his hand down the front of her jeans, his fingertips brushing the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. Inadvertently, Beth bucked her hips against his hand, then buried her head into his shoulder, whimpering softly. Ever so slowly he parted the folds of her sex and pressed his finger against the throbbing bud of her desire, smiling at the feral sound that sprung from her throat, as he worked his finger in lazy circles.  _Damn, she was so wet!_  Daryl blew out a shaky breath, feeling like he was about to burst from wanting her so bad!

Pulling his hand from the front of her jeans, Daryl walked her backwards, pressing her back against a tree. He lifted one of her legs and grabbed the heel of her boot, tugging it off and tossing it behind him, then reached for the other, Beth pointed her toes and that one slid off easily. Again, she reached for the button closure of his pants, and again he gently shoved her seeking hands away. She opened her mouth to likely say something smart, but Daryl crushed his mouth down on hers again, effectively silencing her, the taste of her mouth intoxicating him.

Bracing his hands against the tree, he brought his lips back to her throat, loving the taste of her strawberry scented flesh, her soft, throaty moans exciting him beyond reason. Daryl leaned forward, pressing his lower body against hers, pinning Beth between himself and the tree. He moved his hips in a slow circle, his erection rubbing against the vee of her thighs, teasing her through her jeans, coaxing another feral growl from deep inside of her. Somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice was telling him to stop before it was too late, but Daryl ignored it, as Beth raked her fingernails down his back, chasing all coherent thought away. It was just this woman, Beth ...she was all that mattered right here and now. Just Beth. Always Beth. And soon the voice was forgotten altogether, drowned by every illogical sensation which currently flooded his senses.

"Daryl, please ..." Beth gasped, her voice hoarse with desire, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Please what?" He whispered in her ear, teasing her as he gripped the waistband of her jeans and began tugging them over her hips and down her slender thighs.

Growing impatient with his sensual assault, Beth kicked her jeans the rest of the way off. She slipped her fingers under the waistband of her black cotton panties, but Daryl stopped her, jerking her arms up over her head and pinning her wrists in one of his very large hands, he placed his other hand between her breasts and slid it slowly down her stomach, stopping at the top of her panties. Beth rolled her head from side to side, whimpering as Daryl brushed his fingertips against the elastic waistband of her panties, dipping his fingers inside them, but not touching her.

"Tell me," he coaxed her. He flicked his tongue against her earlobe, gently capturing it between his teeth. "Please what? Tell me what ya want, sweetheart" he whispered. _He needed to hear her say it._

Beth licked her kiss swollen lips. "You," she said, half moaning her reply. "I want you."

Daryl groaned, her admission thrilling him to his core, his heart picking up speed. He released her wrists, not stopping her this time, as she reached for the button of his pants. Her fingers were clumsy and awkward, so Daryl assisted her, unzipping his fly and bracing the tree, a hoarse moan clawing its way up his throat as Beth wrapped her hand around the length of him. He needed to be with her, inside of her, he needed to possess her. _Now!_

Taking a step back, Daryl grasped Beth's hips, intending to rid her of the last barrier blocking every inch of her perfection from his sight. His hands slid lower, grabbing the waistband of her panties, only this time it was Beth who gently slapped his hands away. Laying her palm flat on his chest, Beth gave him a light shove, making him take a few steps back. Daryl eyed her cautiously, wondering what she was up to. With a mischievous look in her pretty blue eyes, Beth turned her back on him and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. With a quick, coy glance over her shoulder, she slid her panties slowly down over hips, then slowly down her thighs and past her knees, then dropped them, letting the pool at her feet. In her best attempt at being provocative, she bent at the waist to retrieve them, presenting a full view of her backside. Not being able to resist, Daryl lifted his hand and slapped her behind.

"Looks like ya really did need a spankin'," he chuckled. "Ya may be naughty, but ya definitely ain't no little girl," he said, his desire for her returning full force, the humor of the moment forgotten as he stared openly at her naked body.

Beth blushed and turned to face him, Daryl's eyes immediately drawn to the patch of golden curls at the junction of her thighs. Before she had a chance to be embarrassed, Daryl was on her again, pressing her up against the tree, his hands caressing every inch of her flesh, Beth writhing with pleasure beneath them.

Daryl fumbled to get his pants down, as their mouths fused together again, impatient to bury himself in her soft, yielding body. Finally he worked them down around his ankles, his swollen member springing forward into Beth's waiting hands. Gently she stroked the length of him, as Daryl moaned into her mouth, his hips automatically moving up and down with every flick of her wrist.

"Easy, sweetheart," he muttered against her lips, gently brushing her hands away. "Ya keep that up an' it'll be over 'fore we even get started."

His hands trembling with the effort it was taking to keep himself in check, Daryl eased the tip of his shaft inside of her, grasping her thigh in his hand to spread her legs wider, he moaned from the exquisite tightness, the mind blowing pleasure of her body closing around him, simultaneously feeling Beth tense up beneath him. Daryl froze, feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut.

"Beth," he gasped, his voice hoarse with emotion. He was not prepared for this, for Beth to be a virgin, though somehow he knew he should have expected nothing less. He stood there unmoving, panic setting in, unsure what to do.  _Stop? Run? Go cry in a corner?_  He looked at Beth, his eyes pleading for some kind of sign.

Beth gazed up at him, her gentle blue eyes warm and calm. She slid her hand up his shoulder to cup his cheek in a tender gesture, nodding her head, reassuring Daryl she wanted this, _she wanted him._

Releasing a shaky breath, Daryl lowered his head and kissed her softly, sensually, a far cry from his usual demanding kisses, as he slowly pressed his hips forward, breaking the barrier of her virginity. Beth winced, stiffening in his arms and Daryl froze again, giving her body a chance to adjust to him. Slowly he eased out of her, then pushed back in, studying her face with each new slow, sensual stroke.

Beth moaned, awash in the new sensations rocking her body. The bark of the tree bit into her back, but she ignored it, hooking her leg up over Daryl's hip, her hands moved around to grasp his behind, driving him deeper, encouraging him to pick up the pace. She thrust her hips forward, meeting him stroke for stroke, feeling a tightening deep in her belly.

Groaning, Daryl hoisted her up in his arms, cupping her backside, his mouth tasting the hollow of her throat as Beth wrapped her legs around him, her own mouth tasting the freckles that littered his shoulders, her hands tugging at his hair. She felt so damn good, he wasn't sure how much longer he would last. Surely, this is what heaven felt like, being in Beth's arms, being inside of her. He twisted his hips, thrusting deeper, beginning to feel her muscles closing around him, her body humming as it edged closer towards release.

"That's it, sweetheart,"' he whispered through clenched teeth. "Let it go, come for me."

His simple words having the desired effect, Beth arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders as she threw her head back and screamed her release, going limp in Daryl's arms.

"Don't quit on me yet, Greene" he teased her, turning to lean against the tree, he grasped her firmly around the waist, thrusting harder and faster, his own orgasm building, as he gazed into Beth's blue eyes, still hazy with desire, her lips swollen, her hair a tangled mess. Damn her, she was perfect! His legs and arms trembling, sweat dripping from his brow, he kissed her again, groaning into her open mouth as his own release came, hot and heavy and utterly mind blowing.

They collapsed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, hearts still racing, ignoring the dirt that clung to their naked sweat soaked bodies. Breathless and patiently waiting for the ground to stop spinning, Daryl leaned over, brushing the hair from Beth's face and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. He had no idea sex could ever be this damn good, knowing deep down that it had everything to do with Beth and not the act itself. His slowing heart rate picked up speed again as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks .. _.it wasnt just sex_.

Beth Greene was the first woman he'd ever made love to.

 


	8. A Day of Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Daryl let his guilt ruin a beautiful thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, as this was one of my shorter chapters (the shortest actually, I think). Love to my "editors". Thanks for reading! ~ Lis

Daryl leaned silently against the tree, waiting patiently for Beth to finish dressing, watching her every move with baited breath. He felt like he should say something, but he wasn't sure what, so he remained silent, chewing his nails. He wondered what she was thinking, wishing he could see inside her mind and pick her thoughts. Were they racing like his?

Finally tugging on her boots, she stood, brushing the dirt off her bottom as she turned to face him. "How long do ya think we've been gone?" She asked.

Daryl shrugged, shoving away from the tree. He hadn't given much thought to the others, but now he was nervous, his stomach churning as he envisioned everyone's stares when they returned to camp. "An hour or two?"

Bending to grasp her bag, Beth sifted through the contents, producing a pack of unopened cigarettes. "I found these today in the Jeep," she said, extending her arm to him. "Seems appropriate," she smiled shyly, lowering her gaze.

Daryl reached for the pack, his fingers brushing against Beth's, causing a jolt of desire to shoot up his arm, shocking him.  _What the hell was going on with him?_ "Thanks," he mumbled. Slamming the pack against his hand, trying to shove down his tumultuous feelings, he busied himself removing the cellophane and foil. He pulled out a cigarette, tucking it between his teeth and dug in his pocket for a pack of matches. "Seems appropriate," he agreed, striking a match and lighting the end of his cigarette, the smell of sulfur hanging in the air between them.

Moving to stand beside him, Beth leaned against his shoulder, molding her soft body to his hard frame. With a heavy sigh, Daryl lifted his arm, tucking it around her and dragging her nearer, laying his chin on the top of her head and blowing out a puff of smoke, hoping to hang on to this moment for just awhile longer.

"Can I have one?" Beth asked, gazing up at him.

"Can you have one?" Daryl repeated, arching a brow in amusement. He flicked the ashes and brought the cigarette back to his mouth, inhaling another drag. "Taking this rebellion phase all the way, huh? Alcohol, smoking, sex ... What's next, a tattoo?"

Beth giggled, threading her fingers through his. "Well, it is a day of firsts."

Daryl cleared his throat, the lightheartedness of the moment quickly fading as guilt ripped through his gut like a bullet. Gently easing his fingers from Beth's grasp, he removed his arm and stepped away from her, taking one more drag from his cigarette and tossing it to the ground, his boot stomping it harder than necessary. "We should head back."

"Don't do that," Beth said her voice strained with unspoken emotions. "Don't you dare do that, Daryl Dixon."

"Do what?", Daryl barked back at her, his own emotions running rampant, anger taking the lead. " Christ, I don't know what tha hell ya want from me, girl!"

"I want ya ta stop hidin' from me!" Beth threw her arms in the air in frustration."Stop being such a damn coward! It's okay ta let me in, Daryl. It's okay ta feel somethin'. It's okay ta feel somethin' for  _me_!" She took a bold step forward as if she would reach out to him, but she didn't.

Daryl dropped his gaze to the ground, contemplating her words. He did feel something for her, but feelings just complicated things. Why did women always have to do that? Couldn't it just be that they gave into the obvious attraction between them and sought comfort in each other's arms? Nagging somewhere in the back of his brain was that little voice again ...telling him he knew it was so much more than that, but Daryl pushed it back, refusing to listen. He needed some time to think, to process his thoughts and ... _feelings_. God, how he hated that word!

"I can't do this right now, Beth. I'm sorry," he said, defeated. "I know that's not enough fer you, but ..." He let his words trail off, rubbing the toe of his boot into the ground at his feet, refusing to meet her eyes, knowing the hurt he would see swimming in their blue depths and afraid to face it.

Beth let out a shaky breath and a sound something like a cross between a groan and a whimper. His heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a vice grip, Daryl drug his face up to meet her eyes, his head feeling like it weighed a ton. Piercing blue and threatening to spill over with tears, they bore into him, burning his flesh, searing his soul.

"Beth ..." Daryl whispered softly, outstretching his arm, reaching for her.

Beth recoiled, swiping the back of her hand under her eyes and bent to pick up her backpack, angrily swinging it over her shoulder. "No, it's okay Daryl," she whispered, not trusting the sound of her own voice. "I don't want ya ta be anythin' you're not. Certainly not on my account."

Bending to scoop up the elastic band Daryl had discarded earlier, she shook the dirt from it and pulled her hair away from her face, hooking the band securely behind her head. "Just don't make me worry about you," she said softly, the hurt still reflecting in her blue iris's, she turned back towards the path that had brought her to him.

_"Go after her!"_  The voice cried at him. With a pained groan, Daryl snatched his crossbow off the ground and took off after her, his large strides easily catching up to her smaller ones. Without saying a word, he grasped her elbow, swinging her around to face him and closed his mouth down hard over hers, his arms wrapping around her, crushing her body to his. Maybe he couldn't make sense of all the conflicting shit running through his mind, and maybe he couldn't speak the words she needed to hear, but he could show her like this and hope she understood.

For a moment Beth gave into the kiss, clinging to him, salty tears streaming past her cheeks and down into their mouths, her fists curling around his shirt. Their tongues twisted against each other, as their bodies had done earlier. Parry and thrust, a duel of passion and unspoken words fueled by need and heat. And then she stiffened in his embrace and wrenched her lips away, her fingers releasing the fabric of his shirt and turned from his embrace, continuing courageously back towards camp by herself, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts. He watched her walk away, alone in every sense of the word.

 


	9. His Brave Little Greene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl tries to sort out his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter directly after the tragic MSF where we lost one half of our beloved ship. Another short, but powerful chapter. Enjoy lovelies ... and love for my "editors". ~ Lis

 

Pissed off and feeling something else he couldn't quite describe, it only took a moment for Daryl to make the decision to go after Beth once more. He didn't want to talk anymore, he just needed to make sure she got back to the group safely. Snatching up his crossbow, Daryl took off in the same direction. He was moving quickly but couldn't seem to catch up with Beth. Damn she was moving so fast and silently, leaving little to no trace of where she'd walked ...just as he'd taught her. Daryl felt a sudden surge of pride at that, then quickly shoved it down, letting his anger boil to the surface and consume him.

Just what the hell did she mean by not wanting him to be something he was not? He had already let her get closer to him than anyone else ever had, even his own damn brother. Wasn't that good enough for her? All he was asking was some time to sort out all the conflicting thoughts in his head. Things he'd never really felt before, things he didn't understand. Like the possessive jealousy he had felt when Eugene had looked at her. It made him sick to his stomach with rage. Why? Beth didn't belong to him. Did he want her to? Did she want to?

Through a break in the trees he could see her blonde ponytail swinging just up ahead and he felt a rush of sweet relief wash over him to see she was safe. She slowed her pace, eventually coming to a stop, leaving Daryl to duck behind a low hanging branch before moving quietly off of the path to observe her. They were close to the highway now, the group just ahead could be heard faintly through the trees.

Beth turned, straightening her clothing and doing her best to compose herself before joining the group. Her face a tear streaked dirty mess, her hair tousled and falling out of that stupid elastic band that he hated so much, Daryl felt his gut clench in pain at the sight of her. She was so raw and real, vulnerable and so damn tragically beautiful. He wanted to fold her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. Protect her. Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides and inwardly cursed himself for his cowardice. He watched her bring her hands up to swipe impatiently under her eyes, removing the evidence of the hurt he had caused her, before squaring her shoulders and moving to join the others on the highway just ahead.  _His brave little, Greene._

Keeping to the seclusion of the woods, Daryl hoisted himself into one of the trees that littered the side of the highway. From his vantage point, he could keep an eye on the group while maintaining the solitude he currently needed. The sun was setting, dipping west into the horizon, bathing the scenery before him in darkness and leaving an eerie look to the landscape. So much nothingness...

The group was winding down now, preparing themselves for whatever bit of rest they could muster. No one pitched tents tonight. Instead, they clustered around the small fire, cocooned in the protection of the cars that surrounded them, Rick and Abe taking stance on either side to keep watch. Rick looked worried, his eyes moving back to the woods every few minutes. Daryl suspected he was looking for him and momentarily felt guilty. He knew he should reveal himself, but he just wasn't ready.

Balancing himself more steadily on the branch, Daryl stretched his leg out in front of him and dug into his pocket for the pack of smokes Beth had given him earlier. He flipped the box open with his thumb and bringing the pack to his mouth, caught a cigarette between his teeth before securely tucking them back safely into his pocket and fishing for his matches. Lighting his cigarette, he flicked the match to the ground below and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out through his nose and willing his body to relax. Instinctively, he looked for Beth, finding her curled up with Judith in the backseat of one of the cars, the door hanging open, Maggie and Glenn leaning on the open door, wrapped around each other lovingly in sleep. Daryl sighed, imagining himself being able to hold Beth like that every night, keeping her warm and safe in the security of his arms. Would the others care? Did it really matter to him if they did? It did, he decided with finality, continuing to puff his cigarette. Beth was almost like the last drop of goodness this world had and he'd be damned if he would taint that. More than he already had ...  _No, he would not go there._

Daryl shook his head, wishing for clarity and taking one more long drag on his cigarette, pinched it between his fingers and flicked it into the grass by the road. Beth had said he was afraid, and it wasn't the first time she'd uttered those exact words to him. Only this time he didn't deny it. Truth be told, he was afraid. Damn near terrified, actually. Daryl had never felt the things that Beth Greene stirred in him. He had always been good at shutting down his emotions and stuffing them away, a trick he'd learned as a boy to help ease the pain of growing up alone, a common casualty of his father's belt. It hurt less when you could separate your feelings from things. This was the reason he was a loner, why he never allowed himself to get attached to anything, or anyone. No one had ever stuck around long anyway, not even Merle. Until now ...

Things were different. He had his "family". Dare he say he was important to these people? They were certainly important to him. He would risk his life for any one of them without a second thought. Would it be to much of a stretch to think that they would understand? Rick had said Beth was not a child anymore. Rick was right. The Beth Greene that he had held in his arms today was all woman. The Beth Greene who continued to stand her ground and not back down where he was concerned, was all woman. The Beth Greene who had bravely rejoined the group while he was here cowering in a tree, was all woman and then some. And she deserved so much better than him.

Carol had said he'd hurt Beth and that was exactly what he had done.  _Worthless. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

And that's how it continued, Daryl's scattered thoughts wreaking havoc on him, his mantra playing over and over in his mind until exhaustion finally took over and sleep claimed him. The image of an angel with golden hair and blue eyes floating above him, just out of his reach...

_"Darleena ..."_

 


	10. Wake up Darleena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl gets an unexpected visit from a special someone in his past. Can they help him see things a little more clearly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is special (you'll see) and probably the most fun I've had writing in awhile (except the epic tree sex). It is def. one of my favorites. I must give double the love to my "editor" Ben, as he is a freaking genius! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! ~ Lis

 

_"Darleeeeeeeena ... Wake up, princess Darleena ..."_

_Daryl blinked his eyes sleepily. Was he dreaming? He swore he had just heard Merles voice._

_"Darleena ..."_

_"Shut up, Merle," Daryl called back into the empty forest, knowing full well he was talking to himself. The bark of the tree branch was digging into his back, but he was to exhausted to move._

_"Get up, ya pussy!" Merles voice barked back._

_Daryl felt the pressure of someone's hand on his ankle and then suddenly he was falling off the tree branch, hitting the ground below with a thud, his crossbow crashing down aside of him, barely missing his head. Laughter rang in his ears, a very loud, familiar booming laugh._

_"The hell!" Daryl cursed, springing to his feet and unexpectedly coming face to face with his brother. Willing his eyes to focus, Daryl stammered in disbelief, "but, yer dead..."_

_"Yeah? And yer ugly", Merle shot back with a lopsided grin._

_Daryl rubbed the back of his head, " And yet still better lookin' than you."_

_Still flashing his grin, Merle slapped Daryl playfully in the arm. "Ya keep tellin' yerself that, little brother. Maybe if ya say it enough, might actually come true."_

_Daryl couldn't help but grin back. If he was seeing Merle, that must mean he was losing his damn mind. He missed his big brother though, and it was damned good to see him. Defeated and succumbing to his psychosis, Daryl sunk to the ground, resting his elbows on his knees and looked expectantly up at his older brother. "Why ya here, Merle?"_

_Merle shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and drug the toe of his boot in the dirt. "Damned if I know, Lil' bro. But, not much else ta do when yer dead."_

_"Ya didn't hafta die, Merle," Daryl replied somberly._

_"Oh fer Christ sake, put yer ovaries away, boy!" Merle cut him off. "I did what I had ta ... " His voice dropped an octave and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, uncomfortably. " 'Bout time I did something right by ya. 'Bout time I jus' did somethin' right, " he joked, then got serious again. "Ya found yerself the family we always shoulda had, lil' brother. I can't be wit' ya, so I'm happy they are."_

_Daryle nodded his head in agreement._

_"Whooo-eeeee, 'specially that cute lil' Bondie!" Merle slapped his hand on his thigh. "Yer tappin' that, right?"_

_Of course Merle had to go and be obnoxious ...Dixon family trait, and all. "Shut up, Merle," Daryl groaned, rubbing his palm over his face._

_"Well, lookie here, " Merle continued to taunt him playfully. "Got yer panties all in a wad, Darleena? Ya sweet on 'er, ain't ya? Got that same googly eyed look when ya was sweet on Alyssa all those years ago." Merle stepped forward and ruffled Daryl's hair._

_"Knock it off," Daryl growled, slapping his brothers hand away._

_"Mmmm hmmm, same puppy eyed look," Merle continued, having a laugh at his brothers expense. "Hey, whatever happened ta her anyway?"_

_"Ya slept wit her," Daryl spat back._

_Merle pondered this for a moment. "Oh yeah. Right, I forgot. Sorry," he shrugged, back to grinning again. "But she had an ass ..." Merle lifted his hands out in front of him, making a heart shape in the air._

_"I said, shut up!" Daryl yelled, cutting him off._

_"Whatever, " Merle snapped back. "My point is, ya got it BAAAAAAAD lil brother. Been bit by the ol' bug. Mmmm hmmm."_

_Daryl rolled his eyes and drug himself up into a standing position. "What are ya talkin' about?" He asked, digging in his pocket for his cigarettes._

_Merle smacked his palm against his forehead in mock exasperation. "Damn Darleena, I gotta spell it out fer ya? L - O - V - E, dumb ass!"_

_Pulling a cigarette out of the pack and lighting it, Daryl remained silent. Did he love Beth? She sure as shit meant a lot to him, but love? Grabbing another cigarette out of the pack, he tossed it to Merle._

_"I can't smoke this, " Merle sighed, catching the cigarette in his hand. "I'm dead, remember?"_

_"Yeah?" Daryl asked, tossing him the matches. "And I'm sleeping, what's yer point?"_

_"Touché," Merle replied, catching the matches too. He lit his own cigarette and tossed the matches back. "Mmmm, sure tastes good. Wouldn't happen ta have a beer hidden in them pants too, huh?"_

_"Sorry brother," Daryl shrugged. "Tapped out."_

_"Figures," Merle shrugged back. "First time I can hold both a beer an' a smoke in months, an' you ain't got one," he finished, waving his right arm in the air and revealing his hand and not a crude prosthetic. "Seriously lil' brother, ya know what the worst part about bein' dead is?"_

_"What?" Daryl asked, exhaling a puff of smoke._

_"Everything, cus yer fuckin' dead," Merle let out a hearty laugh before becoming solemn once more. "But ya get time ta sit an' think. Regret stuff," he mumbled, blowing smoke rings above his head, then fixing Daryl with an intense look. "Ya don't know how long ya got, so don't go pushin' that girl away. She's a good one. Come from a good family. Her daddy was a good man. Maybe he come an' visit ya too," Merle chuckled. " 'Bout time ya got some goddamn happiness, boy ...fix yer sour face."_

_Daryl shook his head. "I ain't good'nuff fer her."_

_"Bullshit!" Merle shot back. "An' ta hell wit what people think. She ain't jailbait, an' yer a goddamn Dixon! Nut up!" He flicked his cigarette to the ground and continued, his voice softening. "Now im'ma give ya a chance ta get yer shit straight, but dontcha' go thinkin' I can't come back an' whoop some sense into ya, seein' how I been so nice this time an' all."_

_Daryl remained silent, weighing his brothers words. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his boot._

_"Now, ya wanna go on and pull them ovaries back out, give ol' Merle a hug before he goes?" Merle teased Daryl in a sing-song voice, winking as he opened his arms._

_Daryl smiled, "Nahhh, that's alright."_

_"Oh, and just one more thing, lil brother ..." Merle moved, stepping closer to Daryl. " I need ya ta wake up."_

_"Huh?" Daryl strained to hear Merle's voice. It was becoming faint, like Merle was miles away even though he was standing right in front of him._

_"Wake up!" Merle yelled back in Daryl's face. "C'mon, let's go!"_

Daryl awoke with a start, his back was aching something awful and his head felt fuzzy.

"C'mon, let's go!" Beth, not Merle's voice spoke in an authoritative tone from somewhere below him near the tree. "We need to go find him, now."

 


	11. Glad ya didn't make me worry 'bout you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no particular destination in mind (yet), the group is finally saying goodbye to Georgia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first chapter I wrote after taking a nine month hiatus (wrote it just last month). Since then, the words have been pouring out of me and this story has taken off. Farewell writers block and hello Bethyl feels! Thanks for reading! ~ Lis

 

"Let's go!"

Daryl sat up straight and began flicking his wrist, trying to relieve the pins and needles sensation in his hand from sleeping on it all night. Below him, he could still hear Beth insisting they go find "him". With a twinge of guilt, he could only assume she meant him. She had told him not to make her worry, and he had let her down once again.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

"Ya need ta calm down right now, " Maggie said sternly, gripping Beth's forearms.

"This is Daryl we're talkin' about," Rick said, trying to be the voice of reason. "He doesn't get lost."

"Probably just passed out somewhere, exhausted from the testosterone overload yesterday," Michonne added her two cents, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight to her other foot.

"It's not like Daryl to just up and disappear, though," Glenn added.

"It is if he needs some space," Carol answered him.

Beth shook herself free from Maggie's grasp, not to be deterred. "If ya won't come with me, then I'll go myself," the tone of her voice leaving no room for negotiations.

"I'm with you," Maggie reassured her, "but I need ya ta calm down Bethy," her soft brown eyes pleading with Beth's vibrant blue ones. She understood. "And we're gonna have a talk later," she added matter-of-factly.

From his place in the tree, Daryl could hear the implication in her tone, making him want to stay hidden away in his little safe haven and far away from the Greene sisters' wrath that was surely headed his way.  _Coward_ , he chastised himself.  _Pussy_ , Merle's voice rang out in his head. Daryl shook it out, grabbed his crossbow, took a deep breath and jumped down off the branch.

"Mornin'," he said as casually as he could muster, grinning sheepishly as he steadied himself. Everyone's eyes were on him, but he saw only Beth's. Relief and then hurt reflected in their deep blue depths. "I was just keepin' watch," he offered, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Must'a dozed off. Sorry."

Her eyes locked with his and Daryl swore he could feel the pain in them physically radiate through him. It cut him to the core and clawed at his gut until he thought he would double over, it was so intense. If he was a good man like she'd said, he would forget everyone was watching and scoop her up in his arms, he'd tell he was sorry he was an ass yesterday and beg her forgiveness for taking her virginity and then making her feel like she'd done something wrong. But he was a coward. A pussy, just like Merle said, so he just stood there gawking at her.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

"Glad ya didn't make me worry 'bout you," Beth said with a harshness to her voice he'd never heard before. "You're all packed an' ready," she said in the same tone, thrusting something into his arms. Unprepared, to grab it, it hit the pavement with a thud. His pack. She had gathered his things for him. Then, mumbling something about Judith, she turned abruptly and walked away. Throwing a scowl in Daryl's direction, Maggie stalked off after her.

"Dude, you're in trouble," Tara clucked at him, her facial expression remained serious, but there was a teasing gleam in her eyes.

Daryl opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Rick who was eager to get moving. "You good?" He asked Daryl. They didn't need many words between them and Daryl nodded, eager now to get moving so he could stop feeling everyone's eyes burning into him. Or at least try to ignore it. Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, Tara and Rick ...only a few had witnessed the exchange, but Daryl felt like a bulls eye had been painted on his back.

"Shows over," Rick told everyone, then turned back to Daryl. "They need ya at the cars," Rick thumbed in the opposite direction. Daryl nodded again as Rick walked off to complete whatever task he'd been in the middle of when Beth had rallied the search party.

Slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, Daryl took a few minutes to collect himself, then made his way to the vehicles they'd lined up the day before, his eyes scanning for Beth, it was a hard habit to break. She was sitting in the backseat of the blue Cavalier, bouncing Judith on her knee, the door propped open and Maggie leaning on it, both of their faces serious and in deep discussion. Daryl cringed inwardly. Guess that talk had come sooner than later. Tara was right, he was in trouble.

Michonne jumped down off of the roof of the tan Corolla she was perched on, startling Daryl from his thoughts. "Don't suppose you're gonna let me drive that Jeep, are you?" She asked, turning her face up at him coyly, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth.

"Not unless ya got a motorcycle in yer back pocket," Daryl replied, squinting from the bright sun.

"Pfft," Michonne snorted. "See if I share my crazy cheese with you." With a chuckle she unsheathed her katana and moved to take down a lone walker stumbling out of the woods. With a graceful flick of her wrist, she sent its head rolling to the ground, flicked the blood off of her blade and holstered it, then jumped back up on top of the Corolla, business as usual.

"Who said I wanted any?" Daryl called over his shoulder, as he continued to the front of the line. He didn't have to look back to know she was flashing that million dollar smile. Abe was leaning under the open hood of the truck, an annoyed look on his face. His scowl deepened as Daryl approached. "Problem?" Daryl asked, with double meaning. He knew the confrontation was coming, might as well get it over with.

"Look who decided to crawl out from under his rock and join us," Abe snarked.

"It was a tree," Daryl snarked him back. He was not intimidated. "I prefer ta be on top."

Abe pushed himself from under the hood and grabbed up the dirty rag draped over the grill. "I'm gonna break it down real simple for you," he said, wiping his greasy hands on the equally greasy rag and fixing his stony gaze right on Daryl. "I've got one mission, one goal, and that's to get him," he pointed across the cars in Eugene's direction, "to Washington in one piece ."

Finishing wiping his hands, he returned the rag to its resting place and continued. "Look, the man's socially retarded, but harmless. And all things considered, beings its the end of the world an' all," he waved his arms around them for emphasis, "I'd say checking out your girls' ass is pretty mild in the scope of things."

"She ain't my girl," Daryl shot back, a little to quickly, realizing he probably sounded like school boy denying his crush. "Don't mean I'm gonna stand 'round an' let someone disrespect her," he argued. It was a valid point and had absolutely nothing to do with jealous possessiveness. Nothing, he reassured himself. "'An I backhanded him, didn't even hit em' wit a closed fist," he added. Should'a though, Daryl thought to himself.

"Look at him, " Abe directed Daryl's attention back to Eugene who was occupied by something in his lap, his lip swollen where Daryl had decked him. Abraham shook his head, hinting a smile, "He's been folding that map for fifteen minutes. It's like hitting an infant," he reasoned. "So, you keep your cool, and I'll keep my cool. Fair enough?"

Assuming Eugene was smart enough to keep his distance, Daryl nodded his head.

"Good. Now," he breathed in exasperation, changing the subject. "Your buddy Glenn tells me you know more about cars than anyone here. I've checked the sparkplugs, fluids are all good an' she's got a full tank, but she's still sputtering. We need this truck, or half of us are gonna be walking into North Carolina."

Daryl shrugged, adjusting his crossbow on his back. "Been sitting on an empty tank fer who knows how long. Prolly got some moisture in tha tank or fuel injection line. Maybe both," he considered. "Just give it some gas, see's if ya can kick it out."

Abe nodded, removing the hood prop and closing the hood. "Fire it up, Rosie and punch it," he called to Rosita who was sitting behind the wheel. He slapped the hood for good measure.

Rosita did as she was told, turning the key in the ignition, it began sputtering immediately. She romped the gas pedal, and the engine roared to life, the truck shaking as black smoke cleared the tail pipe. She hesitated, but a look between Daryl and Abe and back to her, kept her foot planted firmly in place. The truck backfired, shooting an even bigger puff of smoke out at the group who stood behind it, coughing and waving their hands around them, they all moved away to cleaner air. It backfired again and then the smoke coming from the tail pipe became clearer.

"Ease up on the pedal, but keep giving it gas fer a bit," Daryl directed, raising his voice to be heard over the drone of the engine.

Rosita nodded, raising her foot slightly, allowing the truck to still run at a high idle.

"We should start loading everyone up, this noise might draw a crowd," Abe suggested. "I'll let Rick know," he finished, already walking away.

Daryl motioned for Rosita to let off the gas, satisfied that it was no longer sputtering, he turned and headed for the Jeep, surprised to see that Carol was already occupying the backseat. Not feeling very social, especially after their last conversation, Daryl acknowledged her presence with a quick nod of his head and slid his crossbow off his shoulder, depositing it in the driver's seat. He no longer saw his pack on the ground where he'd dropped it and hoped someone had the foresight to toss it into one of the other vehicles, as the Jeep only had room for passengers. Wasn't no big loss either way, he didn't have an attachment to anything but his crossbow and his vest and he kept them both with him at all times.

Wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, Daryl found himself once again, scanning the crowd for Beth. He didn't need thoughts of her clouding his head right now, but he did need to know she was safe. She was still in the back of the Cavalier cradling Judith. As Rick hollered that it was time to move out, she scooted over and Maggie climbed in beside her and shut the car door. Glenn slid into the driver's seat, Tyrese his passenger, and Tara flanking Beth's other side. Car two of the caravan was full.

Daryl ignored the twinge of sadness that Beth would not be riding with him. It was best this way, he reasoned with himself, everyone was too suspicious at this point. Pussy! Merle's voice rang in his head again. "Shut up," Daryl muttered to himself.

Climbing out of the driver's seat of the pick-up, Rosita traded places with Rick. He ordered Carl into the extended cab, and suggested to Abe that Eugene ride shotgun and navigate. Abe agreed, and after Eugene was safely seated in the passenger seat, he scooped up his rifle and hopped into the bed of the truck with ease. Rosita, Sasha and Bob joined him, their weapons in hand, just in case. Father Gabriel took a seat beside Carl and then Car One of the caravan was full, too.

Opening the driver's side door of the Jeep, Daryl brought his fingers up to his mouth and whistled, snorting as the scruffy dog came bounding out from the trees and leapt into the back of the Jeep without missing a beat, its tongue hanging out of its mouth. "Stupid dog," he muttered. He hated the mutt, he reminded himself, but Beth would be heartbroken if the smelly flea bag got left behind. "Ya smell as bad as ya look," Daryl criticized it. "Maybe we should call ya Merle."

"Maybe we should call it Daryl," Michonne teased, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door. "It does have fleas, after all."

"Maybe ya'd like ta walk?" Daryl asked her, ignoring the soft laughter from Carol in the backseat.

"Awww, you didn't think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you? Gotta make sure you don't scratch my Jeep."

"My Jeep," Daryl shot back, moving his crossbow to the floor at her feet and climbing behind the wheel. He shut the door and Car Three of the caravan was full. He pushed the clutch in and turned the key, shifting the Jeep into first gear, and began following Glenn as he pulled out behind Rick.

They hadn't drove more than fifty feet when the Cavalier came to a screeching halt in front of them. His reflexes sharp, Daryl slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision. "Tha hell!" He yelled, preparing to give Glenn a tongue lashing, but then the back door of the Cavalier flung open and a distraught looking Beth was scrambling out of the car, calling for the stupid flea ridden dog without a name.

"Beth!" Michonne called out to her, leaning out the Jeep's window. "We've got the dog."

Relief washed over her pretty face and she quickly ducked back into the car and then they were off again.

"Such a softy," Michonne chuckled.

"Who? Beth?" Daryl asked, watching Georgia disappear in his rear view mirror.

Michonne laughed harder, grinning from ear to ear. "No," she answered. "You."

 


	12. Complicating an Upward Trajectory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the group stops off at an abandoned gas station to check the map, Daryl accidentally stumbles onto what could potentially be their saving grace. That's if they can get Abe to agree ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for your continued support. Peace, Love and Bethyl on my lovelies! As usual, love for my "editors" Alex and Ben! ~ Lis

"That's your big solution? The mountains?" Abe balked, pushing away from the hood of the pick-up truck where the map was spread out in front of them.

"You got a better idea?" Rick asked, remaining calm. He picked his revolver up off the hood and re-holstered it at his hip.

"Yeah," Abe replied in a disgruntled voice. Placing his hands on his hips, he took his usual indignant stance. "We head to Washington."

Rosita rolled her eyes, clutching at Abe's shoulder. "Come on Abe, you agreed to this."

"Reluctantly," he answered.

"You agreed," Rick reminded him, running his hand down his jawline, a sure sign he was becoming frustrated. "You know we are stronger together," he continued. "A safe place for the winter, then Washington. You wanted to leave Georgia and we did that. I kept my word and I expect you to keep yours."

"It makes sense," Eugene chimed in. "The degradation of biology diminishing motor skills complicates an upward trajectory."

"What did you just say?" Rosita asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation, her eyes wide. "English. Speak in English."

"In layman's terms, it's harder for the walkers to get up a mountain," Eugene answered.

"Unless they use a road," Sasha added, "like us."

"Couple here an' there ain't nuthin'," Daryl said. "If it ain't a herd, we can take em' down, keep it under control." Like the prison, he thought to himself, but didn't dare say out loud. They'd been standing over this map for what seemed like a small eternity now and Daryl was losing his patience. This was meant to be a quick stop at a gas station to check the map and figure out where they were going to hunker down for the night, and had instead turned into a debate.

"Seems like a heavy risk to take without knowing exactly where we are headed," Bob said, looking at Rick. "You know I'm always with you, I'd just feel better if we had an actual destination in mind," he finished, rubbing his sore shoulder in an attempt to loosen it up.

"And Walkers aren't the only thing we have to worry about," Tyrese spoke up. "Chances are you're not the only one who thought heading into the mountains would be a good thing."

Rick leaned forward, bracing his hands on the hood of the truck. "Somewhere rural with less population has worked to our advantage before. At least temporarily. That's all we need is temporary shelter. I'm askin' you's to trust me."

"And what if you're wrong," Abe persisted, "we'll just be wastin' more time better spent getting him," he pointed at Eugene, "ta Washington and getting society back on track."

"Ya'll thick or sumthin'? We got a baby!" Daryl raised his voice in exasperation, fed up with the back and forth. "It's gettin' cold. Gonna get colder tha farther north we go. We ain't got food ... supplies ..." He let his voice trail off and kicked the dirt at his feet. Raising his crossbow, he turned and stalked across the parking lot towards the convenient store attached to the gas station.

"Daryl, where are you goin'?" Rick asked.

"Lookin' fer supplies," Daryl called over his shoulder, not breaking his stride. He'd said his peace. Let them debate without him, he was done. Fighting the urge to steal a glance in Beth's direction, Daryl moved carefully towards the large glass double doors of the store entrance, his bow trained in front of him, his finger ready on the trigger. Cautiously, he leaned against the glass, trying to peer through the years of dust and grime that had accumulated on them from being abandoned, but he could see nothing.

Lowering his crossbow, Daryl used the cuff of his shirt to wipe at the dirty glass, cleaning a portion big enough for him to see inside. In the reflection, he could see the group behind him. And Beth. She was still sitting in the back of the Cavalier, spoon feeding Judith a jar of Gerber peaches with Carl, who in allowing himself to be Judith's highchair, was now covered in them. The stupid dog stretched out at her feet, although there was no room for him.

"Stupid dog," Daryl muttered, peering inside the store. He still couldn't see. Blowing out a sigh of annoyance, he tapped on the glass with his knuckles and waited ... Nothing. Just to be sure, he tapped again ... Still nothing. Satisfied, but still erring on the side of caution, Daryl reached for the handle and slowly pulled open the door, peeking inside, his crossbow pointing out in front of him. Like just about every place they came upon, this was ransacked too, shelves knocked over, garbage and corpses littered the floor. Daryl slowly stepped inside and nudged the decaying body at his feet with the tip of his boot. It didn't budge.

Stepping over the corpse, Daryl scanned his surroundings, moving slowly through the store to see if there was anything he could salvage. From the looks of it, anything worth having had already been pillaged. As he came upon the counter where the register sat, he noticed some packets of pain reliever and quickly scooped them up, stuffing them into his pockets. It was always good to have medicine on hand, although it was something usually no one thought to grab. He supposed though, that if you were starving and worrying about the dead chewing on you, a headache was probably the least of your worries.

Leaning over the counter, he checked to make sure there wasn't half a walker laying down there ready to gnaw his ankle off, then laying his crossbow aside, Daryl heaved himself up over the counter to the other side, his boots hitting the wooden planks of the floor with a thud. Bending down, he rifled through the contents under the counter, delighting in finding an unopened carton of cigarettes, until he realized they were menthol. Tucking them under his arm, he raised himself back up to his full height and jumped back to the other side of the counter, this time knocking some clutter off in the process, the noise promoting the growling of a Walker somewhere in the back of the store.

"Shit," Daryl grumbled, scooping up his crossbow and noticing a notebook he'd exposed through his clumsiness. Making a mental note to come back to it, he raised his bow and slowly made his way towards the growing noise. It was coming from the storage room where Daryl discovered three Walkers were trapped by an overturned shelf leaning against the semi opened door. Ignoring the clawing hands of an ugly brunette with one eye gauged out, he peered as far into the room as he could without coming into contact with her outstretched fingers. The shelves were stocked with food and useful things, others who had come by apparently deterred by the zombie trio standing guard. This was good news for them.

Turning, Daryl made his way back towards the notebook, ignoring the growls of the trapped Walkers. He picked it up and flipped through the pages, pleased to see that only the first few had been written on. Back at the prison, Beth had kept a journal. Daryl remembered she had been writing in it the night he came to her cell to tell her about Zack, remembered how fragile and innocent she'd looked that night, her sweater slipping down her shoulder as she put on a brave face, making sure he was alright.

Kicking through the clutter at his feet, he hoped he'd be lucky enough to find a pen too. Nope. He turned back to the counter and finally found one laying along the keys of the cash register. Pleased with himself, Daryl stifled a smile and tucked the notebook in his vest. Maybe a peace offering would help smooth things over with Beth, though Daryl knew deep down that was not the only reason he had grabbed it, but he wasn't going to think about that now.  _Pussy!_  Merle's voice rang in his ears again.

Making his way towards the exit, Daryl noticed some brochures of local tourist attractions on a display by the door. One in particular caught his eye. It read, "Grandview Lodge in the Great Smokey Mountains - just outside of Waynesville!". Intrigued, Daryl plucked it from the rack and opened it. It contained an array of pictures of cozy little cabins and rooms with picturesque mountain backdrops nestled by a charming little lake. Folding it closed, and snatching up a comic book he spotted on the adjacent rack, Daryl pushed through the glass doors and made his way back to the group.

"Find anything useful?" Glenn asked as Daryl approached them. It appeared they were still arguing over where to go.

"Yeah, this." Daryl answered, dropping the brochure down on top of the map.

Rick picked it up, his eyes scanning its contents and then passed it to Abraham. "We're in Hayesville," he said, running his finger along the map to find Waynesville. "It looks like twenty five or so miles," he tapped his index finger on the word. "About an hour away, give or take a few."

"Give or take," Abe agreed, still paging through the brochure. "Let's say you're right about heading into a more rural area," he addressed Rick, "You say you don't wanna be stuck on the road, but we're still dangerously low on resources," he finished, handing the brochure to Carol.

"Supply room is full," Daryl said, swinging his crossbow onto his back and fixing his gaze on Abe. "Doors jammed an' there's three Walkers inside. We can come back fer' it."

"We split into two groups," Rick began devising a plan. "One can hang back about five miles while the other goes on ahead to check it out. We've still got the Walkies. Batteries are low, but we can appoint check-in times ta keep in touch," he suggested, placing his hand on his hip."

Abe tapped his jaw, considering Rick's plan, as Carol handed the brochure off to Maggie and Glenn.

"We should stay together," Beth said softly, coming to stand behind them, Judith propped on her hip with a handful of her blonde ponytail clenched in one little fist. "We're stronger together Rick, you said so yourself."

"She's right Dad," Carl spoke up. "Beth and I can stay with Judith and Eugene. We should stay together."

Rick reached for Judith, plucking her out of Beth's arms, he pressed his lips lightly against her forehead, then placed his hand on Carl's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "Okay son," he agreed. "We go together."

With everyone finished passing around the brochure, all eyes were on Abe. He blew out a long breath, "Well what the hell are we waitin' for? We're burnin' daylight!"

 


	13. You're A Good Man, Daryl Dixon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group has found their temporary new home, but is it safe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the Ashes fun fact - the lodge featured in my story, GrandView Lodge, is an actual place in North Carolina! So, if you're ever in the area (outside of Waynesville), pop in for a night our two (rates are excellent). As always, a shout out to my "editors" who help keep me grounded so I can finish this story for you - love them! Shout out to YOU, my followers who keep me inspired to see this story through to the end. ~ Lis

 

_Give or take a few._  It took less than an hour to get to the town of Waynesville, but was an additional fifteen miles up the mountain to the lodge. The road became more narrow the farther they traveled up the winding mountain path. After a sharp bend, the road beneath them was no longer paved. Daryl pushed the clutch in and shifted the jeep into second gear as the car caravan slowed its pace to accommodate the gravel road beneath them.

Daryl hadn't seen a house for miles and that offered him some comfort. He figured, the more secluded, the better. If the place was habitable, it would be a good idea to take down the signs on the road that pointed you in the right direction.

Michonne shifted uncomfortably, moving her katana to her other hand, she hung her arm out the window. "You'd think walking clear across Georgia would make you grateful for a car ride," she smirked.

"You'd think," Carol agreed, scratching the stupid dog behind the ears.

Daryl snickered. He was enjoying feeling the wind blowing through his hair again and yearned more than ever for Merle's bike. "Won't be long now," he said, pushing the clutch in and shifting the jeep into first and then neutral as the cars ahead of him slowed to a stop. Pulling up the e-brake, he stared through the windshield to see what the hold-up was.

"He's probably considering whether we should stay in the cars or go up on foot," Carol said, leaning forward between the front seats. "We should walk," she said with finality. Michonne remained quiet, assessing their surroundings, ever observant.

Daryl ran his fingers over the ball of the shifter, feeling the grooves of the numbers etched to display the gears and waited for a sign. Up the road he could see a wooden sign swinging from a post that was nearly covered in overgrown weeds, it read "Grandview Lodge". In the Cavalier ahead of him, Beth turned and looked back at them through the rear window, if only for the briefest of moments, as if she shared the urge to know he was alright, as he did with her.

"Daryl," Michonne grabbed his attention and pointing her finger, directed his gaze to Abraham and Sasha, who were now standing in the bed of the pick-up. Leaning over the cab, they had their rifles trained in front of them, Bob and Rosita flanking them, as Rick began slowly accelerating up the road again. Bracing her hands on the roll bar to haul herself up, Carol did the same from her position behind them in the Jeep.

"Watch where ya point that thing," Daryl mumbled, releasing the e-brake. He pushed in the clutch and shifted back into first gear, careful to release the clutch slowly as to not jostle her.

"Yeah, yeah. Watch the road," she shot back, resting her cheek against the rifle as she stared through the scope.

Cresting the hill, they found themselves at the entrance of what could only be considered a parking lot. A modest wooden fence, more for show than security stood between them and the lodge. Abandoned and overgrown, with moss on the roof and bushes crowding the porch, it loomed before them, a once happy place, now forgotten. The ivy vines and clematis, once trimmed and lovely accents to the rustic charm, now climbed unruly up the trellis and over the porch columns, covering the windows and doors. It looked as wild and untamed as its surroundings, small and blending in against the vast mountain wilderness behind it, as Mother Nature took back what had once belonged to her.

Climbing out of the cars, the group on high alert, they put their plan into action. Eugene, Father Gabriel, Carl, Beth and Judith remained in the locked Cavalier with the stupid dog, while Sasha, Glenn, Maggie, Carol and Tyrese headed around the back to clear the barn. Daryl, Rick and Abraham led the others, some sneaking around to the back and sides of the lodge, while the rest crept silently upon the porch. The front entrance was padlocked, which seemed like a good sign, unless it was deliberate, to keep the dead inside.

Once again trying to see through layers of dust on the window, Daryl squinted at the glass, but heavy drapes blocked his view. "Can't see nuthin', " he whispered to Rick.

"Maybe there's nuthin' to see," Rick replied, moving back two steps, opposite of Daryl and raising his revolver. He nodded at Abraham, who stepped forward and using the butt of an unloaded gun, he slammed it down forcefully against the small padlock, breaking it after two powerful blows. As the chain clattered noisily to the porch, he raised his leg up and kicked in the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges as it flung inwards and away from them.

A nod from Rick sent them all inside, keeping a tight formation as they did a sweep, going from room to room in the two story lodge. There search came up empty, not finding a shred of anything, living or otherwise.

Daryl stood in the middle of the lodge's common room aside of the enormous stone fireplace and took in his surroundings. Sheets covered all of the furniture except the service desk by the front door. There were seven bedrooms on the lower level, plus a large dining room and kitchen and two large suites upstairs. All but three of the bedrooms had two beds in them, more than enough space for them all once they fortified it. Amazingly, it was all intact and untouched, completely forgotten about.

"Well hell," Abe said with a huge grin. "I gotta admit that this ain't half bad. Let the girls do their little Susie homemaker thing and..."

A gunshot split the silence, stopping Abe in his tracks. It echoed, bouncing off the hills and disturbing the quiet calm.

Daryl lurched for the door, his heart pounding in his ears, his mind only on the safety of Beth and the kids in her care. Not bothering with the porch steps, he braced the railing and hauled himself over, Rick and Michonne right on his heels. As he dashed across the yard he could make out the figures in the car more clearly. Beth was still sitting in the drivers seat, the closer he got he could see her expression was of concern, not distress and slowly his heartbeat returned to a more normal pace. The gunshot had not come from them.

"The barn then?" Michonne voiced all their thoughts, as they all turned and looked towards the structure a few hundred yards from the lodge. Sasha, Glenn, Maggie, Carol and Tyrese were all running across the field towards them, their faces just as bewildered.

"Motherdick!" Abe yelled. "You heard it. We all heard it. It was close. "

"Calm down," Rick said. "Sound echoes off the hills. It could have come from miles away," he spoke assuredly, but his words belied the uneasiness he too felt.

"Or it could have come from right down the road," Abe shot back.

"This place was abandoned. No ones been here in years. There's no reason to think anyone saw us come here," Michonne said, backing up Rick.

"Or that they're bad people," Daryl chimed in, looking towards Beth. "But we should remove tha signs pointing tha way here," he added, giving voice to his earlier thoughts. Nothing wrong with being cautious.

Rick nodded. "We can do that tomorrow. We should get everyone inside. Settle in. Eat. We can look around more tomorrow, see what this place has ta offer."

"We should organize a run," Glenn added, a bit winded, as they joined the group from the field. "Get that stuff Daryl saw before someone else stumbles on it."

"Let's just settle in ta'night like Rick said," Maggie panted, placing her hands on her knees while she caught her breath.

"We need to move the cars closer to the lodge," Carol spoke up, her breathing also labored from the dash across the field.

"Yeah we do," Abe agreed with her.

"The barn?" Rick asked.

"There's some damage to the roof," Glenn answered. "Probably a storm or something, but it looks pretty good."

"There's a few stray chickens in there too," Tyrese added.

"Alright," Rick nodded, pleased to hear the news of a long forgotten food source. "Let's get set up for the night."

Opening the drivers side door to the Cavalier, Daryl was only half aware of Rick and Abe executing plans to unload the vehicles and move them closer to the lodge. He just wanted to get Beth, Judith and Carl safe inside. "C'mon," he said, gently tugging on the sleeve of her cardigan.

"I'm alright," Beth said, climbing out of the car, Judith hooked to her hip. The fact that her tone was still a bit harsh did not go unnoticed by Daryl.

Like he'd been bit by a snake, he recoiled, removing his hand and taking a step backwards. Beth was looking right into his eyes again, doing that thing she did, making Daryl feel like she could see right into his soul. Exposed and vulnerable. Unlike the tone of her voice, her eyes were not harsh. They were soft and warm, shining with concern and maybe something else that Daryl couldn't ...no,  _wouldn't_ put a name to. For a moment, just a split second, he thought about saying something ...anything, but his mouth would not cooperate.

Daryl didn't know how long he stood there, mouth hanging open like a fool, lost in his own thoughts, but it was Rick's firm grip on his shoulder that brought him back from his reverie. Beth was no longer standing in front of him. "We need ta remove those planks temporarily so we can bring the cars up ta the porch."

Daryl nodded his understanding, stalking to the pick-up truck and digging through the bag that housed the few tools they had accumulated, he produced a hammer, then went to work on pulling the nails from the planks of the fence. When he was done, and the cars were all parked close up against the lodge, he hammered the planks back into the posts. If an emergency arose, they could drive right through the fence, but in the meantime, it was a decent deterrent from Walkers. Maybe they could find another vehicle to leave outside the fence to use for runs.

Within the hours that followed, everything had been set up for the night, the group deciding it was best, at least for now, for everyone to bunk in the common room together. Tomorrow they would begin their exploring of the lodge and what it had to offer both inside and out, as well as put a small group on a run to gather the supplies from the gas station and take down the signs. After a modest dinner of canned fruit cocktail and stale saltine crackers, Abe and Rosita took the first watch, perched on the roof of the lodge, by climbing out from one of the second floor bedroom windows, until they could establish a better look-out point in the coming days.

Most of the group had already turned in, curling up in front of the low fire in the large stone fireplace that was the focal point of the lodge's common room. Unable to sleep, Daryl sat propped up against the front door that Carl and Michonne had boarded up from the inside earlier, before they had turned in. It was times like this he hated the most, when he was alone with his thoughts. Stroking the hair at his chin, he willed himself to relax and when that didn't work, plucked an arrow from his crossbow, and drug the feather along his pants leg. Back and forth, it scratched against the coarse fabric of his pants and before he could stop himself, his thoughts once again drifted to Beth.

He owed her an explanation. She wanted to know where she stood with him, and she had every right. Fact was, Daryl didn't have a simple answer for her. He could no longer deny he had feelings for her that went far past simply caring for her welfare, his very actions were constantly betraying him. It was much deeper ...something that he had never felt with any other person. Any barriers he put up, she tore down. Any ghosts he had, she slayed them.

As if he had conjured her up from his very thoughts, she was suddenly standing before him. Daryl blinked, expecting her to disappear as she did so often in his dreams ...as she did that night at the mortuary, but when he opened his eyes again, she was still there.

The dying fire behind her illuminated her form and cast a golden hue to her blonde hair, giving the appearance of an angelic halo shining over her head. It was fitting, Daryl decided. She was beauty and light and kindness and everything good that this dying world had left to offer, everything he knew he was undeserving of, but oh so selfishly wanted anyway.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Daryl drew his knees up to his chest as she quietly took a seat beside him, her thighs brushing intimately against his as she drew her knees up too. He swallowed hard as his heart picked up its pace, cursing himself that just her mere presence affected him so profoundly.

"Why ain't ya sleepin'?" She whispered, mindful of the others who were resting.

Daryl shrugged. "Dunno. Just can't."

"I can't sleep either," she offered when he didn't ask.

"Should try, " Daryl replied, even though he wanted nothing more than for her to sit beside him for the rest of the night. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he reached into his vest, producing the notebook and pen, and handed them to her with a lopsided grin, his pathetic attempt at an apology. She accepted them with a sad smile and Daryl felt like his heart was being squeezed in a vise.

"You hurt me," Beth said unexpectedly. She was blunt but her voice was so soft, Daryl nearly had to strain his ears to hear her.

"I know," he said simply, looking down, ashamed to look her in the eye.

The silence stretched between them, neither of them saying a word for several minutes, until the quiet became suffocating and Daryl felt as if he would choke on it. He fidgeted uncomfortably, wracking his brain for something to say, knowing he should apologize, give her an explanation but the words failed him. Always failed him.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

It was Beth who once again broke the silence. "Thank you fer this," she said, too polite to not acknowledge his gift, despite the circumstances.

Using the door behind them to brace herself, she drew up to her full height and stood before him. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. I said I was gonna keep remindin' ya, an' I will. But this," she continued, holding up the notebook, her blue eyes full of emotion, "is not what I wanted from ya tonight." And with that said, she turned and left him alone to his thoughts.

_Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure_.

 


	14. We All Got Jobs ta Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Daryl, Glenn and Bob prepare for a run, Maggie shares a secret with Beth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter right before the very ambiguous "death" of our Glenn Rhee a few weeks ago. A few things: This is a much longer chapter than I usually write, and I switched to Beth's POV, so please be gentle, as I'm used to being in Daryl's head, however this was a chapter that NEEDED to be told through Beth. Another thing: My apologies, as in past chapters, I made the mistake of writing Maggie with brown eyes, but they are actually BLUE, so forgive me that error, friends. Love to you and my "editors". ~ Lis

Beth stepped out onto the porch, careful not to let the blanket she'd bundled around Judith trip her up. The morning air was crisp and chilly, it nipped at her cheeks, staining them pink. Pulling the blanket tighter around Judith to ward away the cold, Beth pressed a kiss to the tuft of soft fuzzy hair and rested her chin on the babies head, smiling when Judith protested, rubbing at her eyes sleepily. For as exhausting as it could sometimes be caring for Rick's daughter, she loved her dearly, loved all of the Grimes family, considering them an extension of her own. Caring for Judith was simply the way she paid respect to Lori's memory, making sure her daughter grew and thrived since Lori had unselfishly given her own life for her daughter to be born.

Passing by Maggie and Glenn, Beth smiled warmly, mouthing the words "Be safe" at her brother-in-law and accepting his smile in return. It did not go unnoticed that their goodbye today was more emotional than usual. Beth swallowed the lump in her throat, understanding now more than ever what it felt like to let someone you cared for leave the safety of the group, not knowing if the hug you shared in this moment would be the last time you held them in your arms.

Her heart began pounding painfully in her chest, as suddenly the urge to see Daryl was overwhelming. Beth hurried her pace, craning her neck to see over the bushes that blocked her way. Her heart slowed just a little, as the angel wings sewn into his black leather vest came into view. He was there, hanging under the hood of the pick-up truck, his hands fumbling with the battery cables, talking to Rick. They both looked up, acknowledging her presence as she descended the porch stairs, but she hung back a bit, not wanting to interrupt them.

"Who's all goin?" Rick asked Daryl, his hands resting on his hips.

Daryl looked up from under the hood of the Pick-up, squinting against the bright morning sun. "Jus' me Glenn an' Bob, far as I know," he answered, wiping his greasy hands on a rag and then stuffing it into the back pocket of his pants.

"We're gonna check the fence, see if we can't make it stronger somehow, start building a platform for a look-out," Rick said. "Tyrese and Sasha found some more tools in tha barn."

"Might wanna split some more firewood too," Daryl suggested, nodding his head towards the huge woodpile on the side of the lodge. "Gonna start gettin' colder up here in tha mountains. 'Specially at night."

Rick nodded, then turned his full attention to Beth. "Wanna say goodnight before I put her down fer a nap?" She asked him.

"C'mere sweetheart," Rick said, plucking Judith from her outstretched arms, bending to kiss one of her little plump cheeks, now pink like Beth's from the chilly mountain morning air. "I've got this," he told her, exchanging one last nod with Daryl, then smiled kindly at Beth as he walked back to the porch, snuggling his daughter against him.

Her heart swelling, Beth watched him walk away, loving the little glimpses she caught here and there of Rick's softer side, when he was Rick the father and not just Rick the leader. Feeling the chill in the air more now that Judith was missing from her arms, Beth pulled her cardigan more tightly around her, continuing to watch Daryl through hooded lashes. He was trying so hard to look busy, refraining from making any eye contact with her. Releasing the latch, he let the hood of the pick-up truck slam closed, causing her to flinch.

She knew she should still be angry with him, but truthfully it just tore at her heart that Daryl felt so undeserving of her affection ...or anyone's for that matter. He was just so stubborn and willful, refusing to get out of his own damn way and just let her in. Why couldn't he see what a good man he was when it was so obvious to everyone else? It was infuriating and heartbreaking all at once. The abuse he had suffered as a child, always being drug down, if someone wasn't doing it, he was damn sure gonna do it to himself. Like her scruffy one-eyed dog, Daryl was going to have to learn to trust. Trust in her and mostly in his self. So, true to her word, she was just gonna keep reminding him. Daddy had always said patience was a virtue, and she was nothing if not patient. Knowing deep in her heart of hearts that Daryl cared for her more than he would ever admit, and hoping that could be enough for her for now.

She watched him pick up his crossbow from the ground and walk to the drivers side door to deposit it on the drivers seat through the open window. Daryl, who always needed to keep his hands busy, reached into his vest, retrieved his cigarettes and popped one into his mouth before tucking them safely away. Striking a match, he lit the cigarette captured between his teeth, inhaling deeply as he shook the match and dropped it at his feet.

With slow deliberate steps, Beth moved to stand in front of him, her fingers fiddling nervously with the gold cross dangling between her breasts. Despite the haircut she had given him just a week ago, his hair fell over his eyes and Beth fought hard to stifle the urge to brush it back with her fingertips, uncaring if anyone noticed, but not wanting to make Daryl uncomfortable.

"I'm not saying goodbye," Beth offered, trying to disguise the sadness she felt with a smile.

Daryl gave her a curt nod, pushing his hand through his disheveled hair and taking another drag of his cigarette. "I know," he responded to her, matter-of-factly. "Ya hate goodbyes."

"I hate goodbyes," Beth repeated him, nodding her head in agreement, her voice soft as a whisper. She ran her fingers up the length of her necklace, her hands moving under the hair at the nape of her neck, as she glanced around nervously to see if anyone was watching them. It was now or never ...

Moving forward with quick determination, Beth reached for Daryl, and standing on her tip-toes, quickly fastened her cross securely at the back of his neck. Giving him no time to think about it, let alone react, she gripped the front of his vest in her hands and pressed her lips lightly against his cheek. "Be safe," she whispered in his ear, then pulled back, maintaining her distance once more.

Daryl stood stupefied, confusion clouding his blue eyes. For a moment, Beth thought he was going to take her in his arms, kiss her, tell her he would be alright and that he would be coming home safe to her ...wished for it even. But he just stood there, frozen and unsure.

Biting back the three words she so desperately wanted to share with him, she turned quickly and walked away. "I'll be wanting that back," she threw over her shoulder as she climbed the porch stairs and disappeared into the lodge without so much as a backwards glance.

From inside the lodge, Beth pulled back the heavy drapes that covered the large bay window opposite of the fireplace and watched as the tail lights of the Ford pick-up truck disappeared from sight. Her fingers moved to the now naked space at the base of her neck where her cross pendant once hung. With a heavy heart, she turned from the window, deciding to focus on her work to keep her mind occupied.

Tara and Eugene, had already begun removing all the sheets covering the furniture of the common room, revealing couches, chairs and love seats in rich warm earthy tones. A set of rocking chairs stood by the fireplace, an old acoustic guitar propped up against one of them, and a small bar with six stools sat on the adjacent wall, all tied in with an oversized oriental rug. Deciding her services were better lent elsewhere, Beth headed towards the kitchen, passing Carol in the large dining room, removing an antique washing board from the wall.

"Need a hand?" She asked, slowing her pace.

"Nope, I've got it," Carol replied carefully laying it down on one of the sheet covered dining tables. "Funny how most of the antique decor in this place is going to be useful to us. It's like we've devolved." Grabbing one of the corners of the sheet, she gently dusted it off and sighed. "I still miss my Maytag, but this will do."

Beth smiled, continuing on her way to the kitchen, passing some of the bedrooms and peeking in a few along the way. The rooms had not been divided yet and she secretly hoped for a room of her own, it would make things easier, since she had Judith so much. She was almost to the kitchen when her ears picked up the faint sound of someone crying. Slowing her steps, she strained her ears, listening intently. It was definitely crying, and not just any crying, but the familiar sound of her sisters' sobs, coming from the bedroom just up ahead. With grim determination, all etiquette aside, Beth let herself in the room without even bothering to knock.

Maggie's head shot up at the sound of the door, her face red and puffy, contorted from crying. She sat at the foot of the bed staring up at Beth, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm fine," she said, quickly swiping at her tears as if she was embarrassed.

"Yer not," Beth replied, moving quickly to her sisters' side and placing an arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Leaning into her little sisters comforting embrace, Maggie sobbed, "I'm not."

"Shhhh," Beth soothed, running her hand gently through Maggie's hair, worried at whatever had her sister so distraught. "Tell me," she said simply, hoping she could offer her some solace.

"Just hold me?" Maggie asked, her voice so filled with anguish it nearly brought Beth to tears.

Nodding, she sat back farther on the bed so Maggie could lay her head on her lap. Soothingly, Beth stroked Her sister's hair, evoking bittersweet memories of the past and how their father would comfort them this very same way. Beth wasn't sure how much time had passed, the two of them sitting there in silence, but for Maggie's soft sobs, but she knew she'd sit here all day if it would just make her sister feel better.

Turning her face up, her cheeks still stained with tears, Maggie gazed up at Beth's face. "What happened ta yer cross?" She asked, furrowing her brow as she noticed Beth's missing pendant.

"Someone's borrowing it," Beth answered as nonchalantly as she could muster, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ya mean Daryl?" Maggie asked her. Her tone sounded accusatory, but Beth knew she didn't mean it. Still, she remained silent.

"No more being evasive," Maggie said, sitting up to face Beth and sternly crossing her arms over her chest. "I wanna know what's goin' on with Daryl," she demanded in an overly protective big sister fashion.

"I'm not being evasive," Beth sighed. How was she supposed to explain something she didn't quite understand herself? "Things are just different," she offered. It was the best explanation she had.

"Ya used ta tell me everything," Maggie persisted. "Why are ya being so secretive?"

"It's not that I'm being secretive," Beth insisted. "It's just the way things are," she shrugged. "Something changed between us ..." Not knowing how to explain, she summed things up as best as she knew how. "He knows where I stand an' I'm not gonna push him."

"Well maybe he needs a good shove," Maggie barked, a feral look in her eyes. "Or maybe a good kick in the pants!"

"Stay out of it," Beth warned her, her sharp tone surprising even herself. Lowering her eyes shamefully, Beth quickly apologized, "I'm sorry Maggie."

Maggie leaned closer, worry etching lines in her pretty face. "Bethy, did you sleep with him?" She asked, her blue eyes searching Beth's. She was not going to be deterred.

Beth remained silent, embarrassment staining her cheeks crimson, giving herself away.

Maggie sighed, "Beth ..."

"Don't!" Beth cried, her cheeks flushing now in anger. "Don't you dare tell me he ain't good enough ..."

"I wasn't gonna say that!" Maggie interrupted her. "It's just ..." He voice trailed off as fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Beth scooted closer, her hand moving to rub Maggie's back in a loving gesture. "What is it? What's gotcha so upset? Please tell me," she urged softly.

"I'm pregnant," Maggie blurted out, her shoulders shaking as she fought to hold back the sobs escaping her.

"What?" Beth asked, doing a lousy job of hiding her shock. Her emotions a bittersweet mixture of joy and sadness, she sat up and studied Maggie's tear streaked face.

"I'm pregnant," Maggie repeated, falling forward to bury herself in Beth's lap again. "And I'm angry," she cried. I'm so damn angry that when I should be happy and sharing potentially the best news of my life, all I can think of is why?"

"Shhhh," Beth hushed her, gently stroking Maggie's hair, doing the best she could to comfort her sister. "How far?" Beth asked. "Does Glenn know?"

"He knows," Maggie replied, nodding her head up and down slowly. "And not far." New tears sprung from her eyes as Maggie continued, "And I'm scared. I'm so scared Bethy ... Ya know, I sat there an' I judged Lori fer sending Glenn ta get those abortion pills. I was so angry with her ...and now, I find myself sittin' here wishing there was a pharmacy near by." Maggie snorted, disgusted with herself. "There's irony fer ya, huh?" she asked bitterly, sitting up and staring into Beth's face, needing the strength that only her little sister could give her.

"Don't say that," Beth hushed her, reaching forward to brush the tears from her big sisters' eyes. "It's gonna be alright," she assured Maggie, willing herself to believe as the words tumbled from her mouth, hiding the fact that she was just as terrified. The horrible memories of losing Lori flooded her mind, but she shoved them back, put them away. She'd already lost Momma, Daddy and Shawn, she'd be damned if she was gonna lose Maggie too.

Her hands gentle, she wiped the tears from Maggie's face. "We're all gonna be fine. You'll see," she finished with a reassuring smile. "And I'm gonna be an Aunt." Leaning down she kissed Maggie's cheek.

Maggie looked up at her, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "I love you, Doodlebug."

"I love you, Magpie," she replied softly. "Now," she continued, putting on the sternest face she could muster, "you need ta get some rest."

"I'm fine," Maggie protested, sitting up.

Ignoring her protests, Beth slid to the end of the bed, pulling the covers down. "Yes, yer fine. But yer gonna rest anyway."

Truly exhausted, Maggie slid beneath the covers, allowing Beth to pull them up to her chin. She reached for Beth's hand and squeezed it. "Only for an hour, okay?" Beth nodded, squeezing her hand back, then quietly exited the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her and continued on to the kitchen.

Despite the large scale of the lodge, she was surprised to see it was rather small, housing two gas stoves and a commercial dishwasher, but otherwise looked just like a regular country kitchen and reminded her somewhat of the one back home on the farm. A mudroom connecting off the back housed two large fridges and a floor freezer. Beth wrinkled her nose, imagining the foul things that had spoiled inside of them, but noted that the plugs had been pulled so they had likely been emptied prior to closing.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for one of the cabinets, swinging them open to reveal shelves stocked with rows and rows of canned goods. Excitedly, she threw open the next set which was stuffed with boxed goods, cereals, rice, pasta and bagged snacks. Stepping back, she covered her mouth to stifle a sob and beamed at her findings, wondering how they had gotten so lucky, reminiscent of her and Daryl's findings at the mortuary weeks ago. She smiled, remembering Daryl sticking his fingers in the jelly jar and his insistence in carrying her over the threshold, even though she could walk. He had been so less guarded without the presence of the group. Frowning, she shook the thought from her head and grabbed a dishtowel off of the counter, shaking the dust out of it, then began wiping one of the gas ranges down.

Maybe they would be alright here. Maybe they could just stay, make a life and forget about going to Washington. Maybe this could be home. A safe place for Judith and Carl to grow up. For Maggie and Glenn's baby ...like what they had at the prison. Beth sighed, inhaling a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, squeezing the dishtowel tightly in her fist.

The prison. She hadn't given it much thought over the last few weeks, the thrill of being united with the people she cared about helped to tuck it away. It hurt to remember ...both the good and the bad memories, seeing the kind loving eyes of her beloved father on the other side of the fence for the last time. A tear slipped down her cheek and Beth quickly swiped it away.

And maybe ...just maybe, she was fooling herself, she thought, cursing her own naivety. She didn't want to think that way, but after losing the prison, after finally convincing themselves they were safe ...it had all gone to hell. Was any place really safe anymore? Was everything a trap? No one had really shared the events of Terminus with her, but she knew it was all a farce. Could they ever have a place to call home? It was a hard pill to swallow. Turning with her back to the counter, she slid to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them, feeling defeated. The creaking of floorboards startled her, and Beth looked up to see Carol frowning at her from the open doorway.

"You don't like the selection?" she asked, nodding her head towards the open cabinets. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. "Looks pretty good to me," she said with a half smile.

Beth smiled, despite herself. "It's alright, I guess."

"Did you count them?"

"What's the point?" Beth asked, looking up at Carol, tears threatening to spill. "It doesn't matter what we got. There's always gonna be someone out there who wants what we have. How long 'til the next Governor comes 'round and sets our world spinning again? What we have ...where we go. Here. Washington," she shrugged. "It doesn't matter 'cus we're never really gonna be safe ...Never."

"What's gotten into you?" Moving into the kitchen, Carol sat down against the counter opposite of Beth, leaning her rifle beside her. "Is this about Maggie?"

"She told you?" Beth asked, unable to hide the shocked expression registering on her features, but Carol shook her head "No". "Then how did you know?"

Carol sighed, pursing her lips. "When ya see as much as I have, you just know these things. Now stop your crying," Carol scolded. "You're gonna be there for your sister. You're gonna be strong. She needs you now more than ever."

"I can't," Beth said softly, holding her head in her hands and trying not to cry. "I don't know how ta help her, I ..."

"That doesn't sound like the Beth Greene I know," Carol countered her. "Not the sweet optimistic girl who keeps everyone's spirits up. The girl who went and hemmed all her Daddy's pants because she  _knew_  he was going to pull through. What happened to her?"

"She grew up," Beth answered with a deep resounding sadness, her tears flowed freely now and she didn't bother wiping them away. She remembered that girl, ever optimistic, protected and sheltered from the harsh realities of the world. A world that she knew she was not built for. "I'm not strong..."

"You are," Carol raised her voice a notch, her expression stern; motherly.

"I'm not," Beth insisted, shaking her head. "Not like you..."

"And what's wrong with that?" Carol demanded. "We don't need another warrior, got plenty of them here. We need hope ..love .. and kindness ... Something to remind us why we bother ...what we're fighting for every damn day of this hell on earth we're stuck in!" She exclaimed. Her tone softened as she searched Beth's face. "Inspiration," she continued. "That's what you do, Beth. That's who you are and who you've always been. It's a kind word, a gesture, a hug, a song. It's how you honor your Daddy's spirit." She reached forward, taking one of Beth's hands in hers. "You're a nurturer, like he was. I didn't see anyone else stepping up to take care of Judith when Rick couldn't do it." Carol reached to cup Beth's chin, locking their eyes. " _That's_  what makes  _you_  strong," she finished, driving her point home.

Beth swallowed, allowing Carol's words to sink in. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing Carol's hand.

Quickly pulling her hand back, Carol pushed herself up off the ground. "Don't thank me," she said, shouldering her rifle and heading towards the doorway. "Dry your tears and get off the floor. This kitchen ain't gonna clean itself," she called over shoulder, smiling to herself as she disappeared down the corridor.

Using the sleeve of her cardigan, Beth dried her eyes and pulled herself up off of the floor, straightening her clothing and running her fingers through her disheveled hair, wishing for a warm bath. She needed to keep busy, keep her mind from wandering. Picking up the dishtowel again, she began vigorously wiping at the counters.

Whatever happened, whatever was in store for them, even if this place was only temporary, she was damn sure going to make the most of it. "We all got jobs ta do," she said, smiling to herself.

 


	15. No Man Is Good Enough For Your Little Girl ....Until One Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys have a close call on their run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little nod to my favorite character. Thanks for reading! ~ Lis

Keeping one hand on the wheel, Daryl reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out his cigarette pack. Keeping his eyes on the open road ahead, he flicked it open with his thumb, and brought the box to his mouth, catching one in his teeth and tossed the box on the dashboard.

"Really dude? Another one?" Glenn asked from the passenger seat. "I won't have to worry about Walkers, I'm gonna die from second hand smoke."

Daryl cast him wry look and pushed the car cigarette lighter in with his palm.  _Anxious, he was so damn anxious_. Smoking usually calmed his nerves, but that was not the case today.

They were almost to the gas station, having stopped along the way to take down the "Grandview Lodge" signs, at least in this direction. Bob sat in the bed of the pickup, holding onto them so they wouldn't clatter around, that calm smile he always wore, planted on his face. The cigarette lighter popped out, and Daryl snatched it quickly, lighting his cigarette and blowing his smoke out the open window.

Glenn rolled down his own window, trying to escape the smoke that was filling the cab. "Daryl, you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Daryl retorted, flicking his ashes out the window.

Glenn shrugged, "You just seem edgy lately." He stared out the windshield, watching the scenery pass by.

Taking a finale drag of his cigarette, Daryl tossed it out the window and cast a glance to the skies above them, snorting in annoyance as the clouds got darker the closer to their destination they got. A storm was brewing and he hoped they could beat it home.

Daryl stole another glance at Glenn, noting that he seemed more anxious than him. He kept fiddling with something in his pocket, like he needed to make sure whatever was in there didn't disappear. It was making Daryl curious.

Finally, the gas station was within sight. Navigating around the small car pile up, Daryl pulled right up to the front doors and slammed the truck in park, tucking the keys safely in his vest pocket. Jumping out of the pickup, he grabbed his crossbow, opting to shoulder it in favor for his knife.

Standing, Bob tossed the empty duffle bags they'd brought to the pavement before jumping out. He stood by idle, bags and knife in hand, waiting for directions.

Although it was barely noon, the dark clouds overhead muted the light, making it appear as it was dusk. Glenn dropped his backpack to the ground and dug out a flashlight, flicking it on and off to make sure the batteries were good. When they were all prepared, Daryl led the way to the entrance, tucking Beth's cross safely into his shirt. It pressed intimately against the hollow of his throat, and felt oddly comforting.

Taking the normal precautions, Daryl rapped loudly on the glass and when all remained quiet, they filed in one by one, careful not to trip on any of the corpses littering the floor. Cautiously making their way to the back of the store, Daryl in the lead, Glenn behind him shining the flashlight, Bob pulling up the rear, they came upon the jammed back door. The ugly brunette Walker with the missing eye greeted them, growling and reaching through the open space.

"Hey sweetheart, ya miss me?" Daryl mocked it, keeping just out of reach. "Why don'cha bring yer ugly friends over?"

"Yeah, you wanna flirt with the Walkers later, Daryl? Since we skipped breakfast, I'm kinda hungry," Bob teased him.

Daryl turned for a brief moment, shooting Bob a dirty look before raising up his knife and plunging it forcefully into the Walker's skull. She doubled over, her body slumping to the floor. Banging on the door frame, He tried to coax the others over, but the downed Walker and the fallen shelf that had her pinned against the door, blocked their path.

"Dammit!" He grumbled, tossing the garbage and the debris in front of them out of the way. "We're gonna haf'ta force it." He said, sheathing his knife and swinging his crossbow off his back. Why couldn't anything be easy?

"Get behind me," he instructed Glenn. "Once I force through they're comin ' straight for you."

"I got this," Glenn nodded. Bob too.

Holding his crossbow out in front of him, his finger on the trigger, Daryl heaved himself as hard as he could against the door. His shoulder colliding with a loud thud. The shelf went sliding backwards as the door lurched forward, taking Daryl with it. He hadn't expected it to budge from one shove and losing his balance, stumbled over the Walker he'd just put down.

He felt his feet coming out from under him, the world seeming to move in slow motion, as he fell to the ground, his jaw connecting hard with the tile floor beneath him, his crossbow slipping from his grasp as it skid just out of his reach. Blinding white hot pain shot through his face, exploding in his head, leaving his ears ringing. Lifting his head, Daryl tried to drag some air back into his deflated lungs, blinking his eyes so the world would come back into focus.

Vaguely he could hear Glenn and Bob shouting his name, telling him to get up. He reached around blindly for his crossbow, then gave up, rolling onto his back, and reached for his knife. He could feel pressure on his legs, the weight of something moving up his body ...feel the gnarled twisted fingers pulling at his pants. He yelled, kicking his legs, waiting to feel it's teeth ripping into his flesh and then suddenly, the weight was gone. Instinctively he pulled his legs up and shook his head, his vision slowly returning.

"Get up, Daryl!" Glenn cried. He held the Walker by its arms, dragging it backwards, while Bob ran up behind Daryl and gripping him under the arms, hauled him off the ground.

"I'm good, I'm good!" Daryl yelled, shaking Bob off, he lunged forward and buried his knife in the Walker's skull.

Glenn let the Walker drop, "Are you okay?"

"Yeh. Jus' knocked tha wind outta me," Daryl replied, rubbing his aching jaw. "Damn door! Didn't think it was gonna fly open after one shove. Where's tha other one?"

"I got it," Bob said, pointing to the slayed corpse out in the store.

Daryl nodded, "Alright, let's get this shit an' get tha hell outta here."

Moving as fast as they could, they began grabbing boxes, tossing loose things in the duffle bags they had brought, and stacked them by the front entrance, figuring everything could be sorted and picked through at the lodge. It was once they were loading the truck, Daryl realized his jaw was turning black and blue and that Bob was limping.

"Ya' alright?" He asked Bob as they loaded the last couple of boxes.

"Yeah," Bob replied. "Caught my leg on that damn shelf when that Walker came at me. How about you? You're not dizzy right?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "My jaw feels like I got sucker punched, though," he finished, rubbing at his face again.

"Looks like it too," Glenn said, opening the passenger door and tossing his backpack inside. "You okay to drive?"

Daryl nodded, climbing into the drivers seat, "Guess we'll find out," he said, removing the keys from his vest pocket and starting the truck, pulled back onto the main road.

"Wake me when we get home," Bob called from the backseat, closing his eyes.

Daryl watched the gas station disappear in his rear view mirror, allowing himself to relax a little now that they were on their way back to the lodge. His jaw ached something awful, and he was angry with himself for being so damn stupid and careless. What if he'd gotten bit? What if instead of being behind the wheel on his way back to the group, back to Beth, he'd have been laying back on that convenience store floor with a hole in his head? Or worse yet, what if he'd gotten someone else bit?  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

"You sure you're alright?" Glenn asked Daryl again.

"Yeah, ya gonna stop askin' me?" Daryl shot back, not bothering to hide his annoyance, although it was himself he was annoyed with, not Glenn. "Jus' got me shook is all," he added in a softer tone.

Glancing out the passenger window, he sighed and began fidgeting in his pocket again. "We're family right, Daryl? Our group," he continued, "I mean, I know we're not blood, but we're still a family ...except sometimes I think we're better because we chose to be a family."

"Not sure it was really a choice," Daryl replied, confused at Glenn's turn of conversation, propping his elbow on the door, he stroked his chin. It was the truth. If circumstances wouldn't have been what they were, if Sophia had never gone missing, he probably would have been long gone after the CDC, reverting back to his old habits.

"It was," Glenn insisted. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. "I've been thinking a lot about Hershel lately," he continued solemnly. He reached back in his pants pocket and finally removed his token, Hershel's pocket watch, turning it in his hands and running his fingers along the etched ornate grooves in the silver.

"It was his grandfathers'" Glenn offered as Daryl stole a glance. "Back on the farm, before we got overrun, he gave this to me. He said to me ...He told me ... "Glenn stammered, struggling to put the phrase to words right, " He said that no man is good enough for your little girl ...until one is."

"Ya done right by Maggie," Daryl said, unsure what Glenn was implying.

"I wasn't talking about Maggie," Glenn replied, letting his voice trail off. As if he had made his point, he put the watch back in his pocket and turned his attention back to the window.

Daryl chewed his lip as they drove the rest of the way in silence, Bob snoring in the backseat. He wasn't quite sure what Glenn had been implying, although he had an idea. He hadn't exactly been very subtle lately regarding his interactions with Beth. The looks, the touches ...if Carol and Rick had noticed, he was sure Glenn had too. Had this been Glenn's way of letting him know? Letting him know that he thought Hershel would approve?

Daryl couldn't accept that. He and Hershel had shared a mutual respect, maybe even a friendship when they had both sat on the council at the prison, but that didn't mean he would be okay with some dumb classless redneck courting his teenage daughter. On the verge of twenty, or not, she was still Hershel's youngest, his baby, and Daryl just couldn't imagine he'd have approved, even setting the age difference aside. They came from two totally different worlds and Daryl knew Beth deserved so much better ...he knew Hershel would have felt the same, and no one was going to change his mind.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

As the truck crested the hill and he approached the turnoff to head up the mountain, Daryl swore he saw a quick flash of tail lights in the distance. "Ya see that?" He asked Glenn, reaching over to slap his arm and get his attention.

"See what?" Glenn asked, suddenly alert, he sat forward, peering ahead out the windshield.

Daryl coasted the truck to a stop, uneasiness stirring deep in his gut. "Dunno ..thought I saw tail lights or sumthin'," he said, maybe he'd hit his head harder than he thought.

A flash of lightening split the skies, illuminating the road ahead and reflecting off an abandoned car on the shoulder about fifty yards away.

"Maybe a reflection?" Glenn asked.

"Maybe," Daryl agreed, applying his foot lightly to the gas peddle and taking the turn, slowly inching his way up the gravel mountain road. It probably was just the reflection of the lightening, but that did not stop Daryl from watching the rear view mirror like a hawk the rest of the way home.

As they finally arrived at the lodge, it was evident just how busy everyone had been while they were away. A crude lookout platform had been constructed on the branches of the big tree out front, and chicken wire had been rolled out along the fence, helping to close the gaps between the wooden planks. As they drove closer to the fence, Daryl saw someone had constructed a gate of sorts, so they wouldn't have to keep removing the planks every time they went on a run. Tyrese and Rick, standing guard at the gate, opened it to allow them access.

"How'd it go?" Rick asked, leaning in the truck window, his eyes studying Daryl's bruised jaw.

"Still alive," Daryl replied.

"Why don't ya pull in tha barn for now before the rain starts," Rick directed, pointing at the structure. "Sasha and Michonne are down there, they'll let you in. We can deal with it tomorrow," he said, tapping on the truck.

Daryl nodded and drove the truck across the yard to the barn, noting that someone had also split more firewood as he'd suggested. Sasha and Michonne were already waiting with the doors open and Maggie greeted them as they climbed out of the truck, throwing her arms around Glenn.

"Where's yer sister?" Daryl asked her, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he had the chance to think and reconsider them, his need to see Beth was suddenly that urgent.

"I think she's unpacking," Maggie answered him. "Why?"

"Got sumthin' I need ta return," he said, turning to make his exit as he shouldered his crossbow. He had the feeling she had more to say, but it would have to wait.

The trek across the lawn felt like it took forever, traipsing through the tall grass until he was finally climbing the porch stairs two at a time, Daryl entered the lodge. Someone had already lit a fire, it roared warm and inviting, lighting the room and casting shadows on the adjacent wall. Carl was laying in front of it, reading the comic book he'd given him yesterday and Daryl thought it was nice to see him looking like a kid once in awhile.

Heading past the bar and the staircase to the second floor, Daryl walked down the corridor, peeking in the rooms until he found Beth's. It was the only suite on the first floor, with a queen sized bed and a love seat, a small fire was already going in the fireplace, illuminating the room.

She was standing with her back to him, over the bed, humming softly to herself while she unpacked the few meager belongings she had happened to pillage while they were on the road. Daryl stood in the doorway and watched her, deciding not to announce his presence just yet. He liked watching her, liked the way she bit her bottom lip when she was concentrating, liked her messy ponytail bouncing with every step she took. He liked the way her jeans hugged her hips as she moved back and forth between the bed and the dresser. He liked that a little too much, he realized with a grimace, shifting his weight to his other foot to disguise his growing arousal.

Moving his hand up to his throat, Daryl brushed his fingertips against Beth's cross pendant, then reached to the back of his neck to release the clasp, surprising himself when he realized that he didn't want to take it off. He liked carrying a piece of her around with him, liked knowing that she was always with him in some way. Closing it safely in his fist, he reached up and tapped his knuckles lightly against the door.

Beth looked up, startled from her task and fixed her bright blue eyes on him. "Yer back!" She said, flashing him a sweet smile. Her gaze fell on his bruised jaw and her smile tilted into a frown. "What happened?" She asked, concern swimming in the clear blue pools of her eyes as she dropped the shirt she was folding on the bed and hurried to his side.

Stepping inside the room, Daryl shut the door and propped his crossbow against the wall. "It's nuthin," he replied, catching her reaching hand in his, and drawing his face back out of her reach. "Said ya wanted this back," he changed the subject, holding out his hand, revealing her cross nestled in his palm.

"I did," Beth agreed, still frowning. "Does it hurt?" She asked, refusing to be deterred, she swatted his hand away and gently cupped the side of his face, caressing his jaw softly with her thumb.

"Nah," Daryl replied, inadvertently leaning into her comforting touch, his eyes studying every play of emotions on her beautiful face.

Beth let out a soft sigh and removed her hand, turning around suddenly, she moved her hair to the side, exposing the creamy skin at the back of her neck. "Put it on for me?" She asked.

Daryl swallowed nervously as he moved behind her, his arms going over her head, as he clasped her necklace with shaky hands. His eyes fell to the remaining pieces of clothing on the bed and he realized Beth hadn't been unpacking her own things, she'd been unpacking his.

She turned around, adjusting her necklace, her eyes following his to the pile of his belongings she hadn't yet put away. "This is your room, not mine. I know ya like your space," she said, lowering her eyelids. "Figured ya wouldn't wanna share a room," she shrugged. "I already got my room set up, I'm bunking with Michonne, so I just thought I'd get ya settled in."

Suddenly the skies opened up and rain began to pelt the roof of the lodge. It slammed against the window pane, drowning out all the busy sounds of the lodge beyond the bedroom door.

Daryl gazed down at Beth with an appreciation he'd never felt for anyone else, amazed at how despite all of the terrible losses that she'd suffered in her short life, all the hurt, all the ugliness, her beautiful soul had not been tarnished. Beth Greene had gotten under his skin, made him want to be a better person, made him think he could be. He wanted to protect her, shield her from everything ugly in this world and keep her beautiful heart safe, and that he realized, started with him.

"Mmm'sorry," he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the raging storm outside. He was not good with apologies. Hell, he wasn't good at much of anything. Before he could put two thoughts together, Beth was in his arms, wrapping her tiny frame around him and squeezing him like he was the last drop of goodness left on earth. Of their own volition, his own arms wound around her, holding her tight, he kissed her golden hair and rested his chin atop her head, the scent of strawberries tickling his nose.

He felt her hands at his waist, and then up under his shirt, caressing the naked skin of his back, her fingertips skimming over the protruded flesh of his scars, but he didn't care, because it was  _her_. With a tenderness he didn't know he possessed, Daryl gently cupped Beth's face in his hands and leaning down, slowly brushed his lips against hers.

She sighed, her soft lips parting, granting him the access he craved to plunder the sweet insides of her mouth. He touched his tongue to hers lightly, wanting to hold onto the tenderness of the moment, wanting to savor the sweet taste of her kisses until it was burned into his memory.

Her arms winding up around his neck, Beth pressed fully against him, yielding her soft pliant body to his harder one. The yin to his yang, perfectly complimenting one another.

"Put your hands on me Daryl," she whispered against his lips, sending a jolt of desire shooting through his body, as all his self restraint crumbled around him.

He slid his hands down her back, and grabbing her bottom, lifted her in his arms, pulling her flush with his body, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. Walking backwards, his lips never leaving hers, Daryl set her on the dresser, pushing his hands between them so he could cup her breast through her tattered t-shirt. Beth rewarded him with a throaty moan, arching herself against his hand, as she pushed her fingers through his hair and pressed herself against the throbbing erection in his pants.

With an urgency he couldn't describe, Daryl pulled at the hem of Beth's top, wanting to feel her smooth skin under his fingertips again, wanting to feel their naked skin pressed against each other without the barrier of clothing. He groaned, tearing his lips from hers. "I want ya so bad," he murmured, his voice unrecognizable to his own ears.

"Yes," Beth cried, her fingers flying to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling and clumsy in her haste. She had only gotten three buttons undone when there was a knock at the door. They froze, holding their breath like two kids caught playing five minutes of heaven in a closet.

"Daryl, I'm sorry. Rick needs you," Michonne called from the other side of the door.

"Be right out!" He yelled back, praying his voice sounded normal.

Pressing his forehead against Beth's, he groaned his frustration, "We'll finish this later," he said, untangling his limbs from hers.

Beth nodded, straightening her disheveled clothing as Daryl stepped away from her and adjusted himself, as he headed for his crossbow.

His hand on the doorknob, he stopped suddenly and turned, quickly closing the distance between them to plant a chaste kiss on her lips. "Later," he reminded her, and then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

 


	16. Very Nervous ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eugene sings!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL another fun chapter! Hope you enjoy! ~ Lis

With full stomachs and a sense of security they hadn't felt since the prison, the group sat huddled in the common room taking full advantage of the comforts of home that they had been lacking for so long. As he did so often, Daryl sat apart, observing his surroundings, chewing on a toothpick he'd found in a mason jar behind the bar. Like Rick, he was never at ease, the two of them were always on alert, waiting for something to disrupt the calm. Just watching and waiting.

The rain had slowed a bit, but was still coming down steady. From his position propped against the big bay window, Daryl could look out into the yard every time the lightening flashed. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, just couldn't shake the unease he'd felt earlier. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but whatever the reason, he remained on high alert.

They had eaten heartily of beef stew from the canned goods stash Beth had found in the kitchen, and used the fireplace to warm it all in a big pot. Even better, they had actually ate out of bowls and used utensils, Sasha joking that it kind of felt like they were on vacation. Daryl wished he could share their sentiment and fully enjoy himself, but after the prison, he would never let his guard down again. Ever.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

The lightning flashed again, illuminating the night sky outside and Daryl glimpsed a Walker stumbling alongside the fence. He studied it's ugly hulking form, the decrepit way it drug its feet like a lumbering drunk on its way home after last call, as Rick came to stand beside him, also observing.

"We'll finish fortifying this place tomorrow," he said, leaning against the window frame, opposite of Daryl. "All in all, it's not a bad day's work. You should try ta relax," he offered, crossing his arms over his chest, knowing his suggestion was futile, falling on deaf ears.

"I'll relax then," Daryl replied, shifting his weight to his other foot. "Should board up these windows, at least half way. An' the back door," he added.

Rick nodded in agreement. "We found a generator out back behind the kitchen. If we can find some fuel, we can have running water. Property has a well, we just need power to get the pump running. Maybe relight the pilot light and have hot water too."

Daryl didn't feel like going on another run anytime soon, but the prospect of a hot shower was rather enticing. That, and they did need to take down the lodge signs on the other side of the mountain. He just wasn't going to feel safer until that was out of the way. "Yeh, I can go." Daryl agreed.

Satisfied, Rick nodded. "Heard you had a pretty close call today."

"Ya heard right," Daryl replied, rolling the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, being his usual indifferent self. Truth was, it had scared the hell out of him. He'd had close calls before, but now ...now it mattered. Not just the survival part, that was a given, but life ...living. Just like he had told Carol, it had never been more important. The family, Beth, a sense of belonging, the need to protect the people that mattered most to him in what was left of this broken world.

"How's your face?" Rick asked, interrupting him from his thoughts.

"Can't get any uglier," Daryl shrugged, evoking a chuckle from Rick. Inadvertently, his eyes found and settled on Beth. She was sitting closest to the fireplace on the floor beside Carl who was once again flipping through the pages of his comic book. Every now and then she'd lean over his shoulder and point to something on the pages and her cardigan would slip, exposing the creamy white skin of her upper arms, stirring a primitive need deep inside of Daryl.

His palms itched as he remembered the way her smooth skin felt under his calloused hands, the way she turned to putty in them, soft and warm and yielding. He wanted her, yes ...badly, but it so far encompassed that. The sweet innocence that was Beth Greene was wearing him down. She turned and grabbed the acoustic guitar that leaned against the rocking chair behind her and laid it across her lap, plucking the strings as she tuned it, turning the knobs until the notes sounded as they should. Daryl imagined it was his head in her lap instead, her hands in his hair.

"Do you play?" Tara asked her, her head snapping in Beth's direction at the sound of the guitar.

"I used to," Beth replied, strumming her thumb against the strings _._  She smiled, "It's been a long time."

"She can play just about any musical instrument," Maggie, who was curled up against Glenn on the loveseat, chimed in. "Why don't you sing somethin' for us, Bethy?"

Placing her fingers on the chords, a shy smile on her face, Beth began playing the guitar, missing a few notes at first, it was a faster, upbeat tune. Daryl watched her face, studying her features while she concentrated on her finger placement, stirring memories of her playing the piano that night in the mortuary. He had watched her then too, enthralled at the way she swayed, becoming fluid and losing herself in the music. Like an artist painting her masterpiece, music was her canvas and she could sweep anyone under her brush.

"Alright," Tara exclaimed, drumming her hands on the wood floor in tune with Beth's playing, recognizing the song instantly. "Fleetwood Mac, sweet!"

Her voice was soft at first, almost a shy whisper as Beth began singing, her eyes drifting closed as she fell into the music,  _"If lovin' you, isn't the right thing to do, how can I ever change things that I feel? If I could, baby I'd give you my world. How can I, when you won't take it from me?"_

Her sweet voice wrapped around him, the lyrics penetrating his brain and he knew she was singing to him. Daryl swallowed uncomfortably, having the feeling the others knew it too. Embarrassed, he stole a quick glance at Rick and the group, but they were all focused on Beth.

_"You can go your own way,"_  she continued opening her eyes, and Tara, knowing the chorus sang along with her.  _"Go your own way. You can call it another lonely day. You can go your own way, go your own way."_

Finishing the chorus, they smiled at each other, and Beth continued, this time, her eyes falling on Daryl, holding him captive with her deep blue gaze. _"Tell me how everything turned around? Packin' up, shackin' up's something you won't do. If I could, baby I'd give you my world. Open up, everything's waitin' for you."_

She lowered her eyes again as Tara joined her in the chorus once more.  _"You can go your own way. Go your own way. You can call it another lonely day..."_

_"Another lonely day!"_  Eugene belted out, singing over them and drowning out the guitar. Beth and Tara stopped singing as everyone erupted in laughter. Embarrassed and blushing, Eugene hunched his shoulders. "What? I like tha song, I'm not ashamed," he declared adamantly.

"You should be," Rosita said, playfully slapping his arm.

"Alright, who spiked the punch?" Abe asked, swinging the whiskey bottle he'd been sipping from up in the air as a salute.

"There's punch?" Rick asked, pushing himself away from the window frame and plucking Judith from Tyreses' arms. He kissed her soft hair, motioning to Carl that it was time to turn in. Reluctantly, Carl flipped his comic book closed, and taking his little sister, headed into the first bedroom right off of the common room, shutting the door behind him.

"The bar is fully stocked," Tara joked, jerking her thumb in the direction of the mini bar. "At least someone's taking advantage of it."

"Yeah," Rosita rolled her eyes. "Pace yourself Abraham, it's going to be a long winter."

With a scowl, Father Gabriel stood and excused himself, deciding it was time to turn in. Daryl watched him head down the hall and to the room he was sharing with Tyrese, with a look of discontent. Though his reasons for taking Beth that night had truly been selfless, Daryl couldn't help the resentment that still stewed in his gut.

"We had a good day," Rick addressed the group, once again pulling Daryl from his wayward thoughts. "We'll finish fencing the perimeter and getting a more permanent roof on the lookout tomorrow. I don't wanna give anyone a false sense of security, but I think we're gonna be alright here." Waving his arm in Daryl's direction, he proceeded to tell them the things he and Daryl had spoken of, regarding the generator and water, as well as setting up a lookout schedule.

Tonight it would be Carol and Michonne, and Daryl noted that Rick had eased up a bit on Carol lately, maybe because Tyrese had seemingly made peace with her. Maybe because no matter how horrible of a thing it was that she had done to David and Karen, perhaps a part of Rick understood. Or maybe he had felt bad for banishing her. It was taking Daryl a little longer to come to grips with it. He'd been angry as hell when Rick had told him about her banishment, although he really had no time to react with the events that had immediately followed. He did know he would always care for Carol, in many ways she was his first true friend ...ever, but what she had done had gone against everything they had worked so hard to build, everything that Daryl had come to stand for. It was their job to protect and guide the sick and the weak, not dispose of them because they were a liability. With a heavy sigh, Daryl tucked it away. Tonight was not the night to deal with it. Tonight he had other plans.

As if she had known he was thinking of her, Carol gave him a sad, knowing smile as she pulled on a heavy jacket and shouldered her rifle. She felt the rift too. She made her way to the door and grabbed one of the lanterns perched on the service desk and waited patiently for Michonne who was getting herself together.

Her coat zipped, Michonne adjusted her strap over her head and sheathed her katana. "Looks like you're bunking alone tonight, Greene," she said, winking at Beth.

"I'll manage," Beth answered with a smile, putting the guitar back in its place. She stood and stretched, then began collecting the dinner dishes to take them to the kitchen, her eyes continually finding Daryl's as she completed her task, then disappeared down the corridor where the lantern left on the kitchen counter lit her way.

"Board it up," Michonne said to Rick, as she came to stand beside Carol at the entrance to the lodge.

Rick shook his head no, "Not with the two of you out there."

"Board it, Rick. If something happens, you forget about us and get everyone out," Carol said sternly.

"That's not what we do," Rick countered. "You ring the bell like we discussed and you get back here. If our people are outside, the door doesn't get boarded," he nodded with finality.

Frustrated, Carol stormed out the door, her boots slapping hard against the wood planks of the porch with every step she took as she descended the stairs and headed across the yard. Daryl watched her from the window as she made a beeline for the Walker still stumbling against the fence, and jammed her knife in its skull, turning before it even hit the ground, she climbed up the ladder and into the lookout. So much for peace between the two of them, Daryl thought dryly, turning away from the window and digging in his vest for his smokes as Rick and Michonne stepped out onto the porch to speak in private.

The group was beginning to turn in, everyone heading towards their rooms. Glenn and Maggie to one of the suites upstairs, Sasha and Bob taking the other. Abraham insisting Eugene not be out of his sight, was bunking with him and Rosita, leaving Tara to take Michonne's bed for the night even though she said the couch in the lounge would be more than adequate. Some beds would just have to be alternated depending on who was on watch, it was just enough space and they'd worked through worse sleeping conditions.

Daryl lurked in the front doorway, not wanting to intrude upon Rick and Michonne's private conversation. There was an easiness between the two of them since the group had separated. Daryl wasn't very good at defining relationships, but he didn't think it was intimate, just that they were good for each other. Michonne had a calming affect on Rick like no one else and she had the uncanny ability of reading people like a book, a quality Daryl had always respected of her.

Clearing his throat to announce his presence, he stepped out onto the porch and struck a match, lighting the cigarette he held in his teeth. Michonne had her hand on Rick's shoulder, and with a quick squeeze and then a nod in his direction, she made a quick dash through the rain to the cover of the lookout, joining Carol.

Rick sighed, wiping his arm across his brow and settling his hands on his hips as he watched Carol and Michonne perched in the distance. "She fights me with anything anymore," he said, looking to Daryl for validation.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Daryl leaned against the porch, his elbows resting on the railing and exhaled the smoke. "I get why ya don't wanna board tha door, but if one of us was out here, we'd tell 'em ta board it," Daryl offered honestly. "Back doors boarded."

Rick sighed again and nodded. "I would, yer right," he agreed, running an impatient hand through his hair. "I don't like leavin' our people vulnerable." Moving closer to Daryl, Rick lowered his voice, "She's different Daryl, colder ...I know you see it too."

Daryl understood. He had noticed the change in Carol. He didn't think it was because she didn't care, quite the opposite, it was because she cared too much. Daryl had done it himself countless times ...pushing people away, keeping others at a distance.  _"God forbid ya ever let anyone get too close,"_ Beth's words rang in his ears. "She cares more than ya know," Daryl said, inhaling deeply and flicking his cigarette into the rain. "We've all lost a lot ..." He let his words trail off, exhaling the smoke he'd held in.

Rick was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. "Board the door when you come in," he mumbled, going back inside the lodge, tossing a "goodnight" over his shoulder.

"Night," Daryl called back, smiling to himself.

He smoked one more cigarette before closing himself back in the lodge and as quietly as he could, hammered the board into the door frame, securing the door shut for the night. Grabbing his crossbow up from the windowsill he'd left it propped on, he shouldered it and quietly made his way down the corridor towards the soft lantern light that was still glowing from the kitchen.

Beth was still here, her back to him, her tiny frame hunched over the sink cleaning the last of the dinner dishes with some water they'd brought up from the lake and boiled earlier. Humming softly to herself, she reached to tuck a strand of errant hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, as Daryl quietly laid his bow down and leaned against the doorframe, content to watch her. In the back of his mind, he faintly remembered a scene from a movie he'd caught a few minutes of one night while flipping through the channels, when he was coming off of a bender. A woman standing in the kitchen washing dishes, a man coming up from behind and wrapping his arms around her. She had leaned into his embrace, smiling as he kissed her throat and feeling rather annoyed, Daryl had flipped to the next channel, thinking that real people didn't act that way ...at least none that he knew, and even if they did, it was nothing he'd ever know, or want, for that matter.

His feet moving of their own volition, Daryl found himself suddenly standing behind Beth, his arms wrapping around her tiny waist. She did not startle or recoil, but instead relaxed into the circle of his arms, leaning her head against the hard wall of his chest. He was wrong. He wanted it, more than he could have ever guessed. Being with Beth felt good, natural. She was the only person who he ever felt completely safe being vulnerable around. It was strange and a little unnerving, but Daryl knew didn't want to run away from these feelings anymore. He wanted a future with Beth Greene, no matter what that future held.

Turning in his arms, Beth smiled up at him. "I'm almost done. You can go get settled," she offered, gazing up at him with her blue eyes big as saucers.

Daryl nodded and stepped back, hating the aching emptiness of not having her in his arms, but floating on the anticipation of what was yet to come. "Okay," he answered.

"See ya," Beth said with a shy smile, a slight pink blush caressing her cheeks.

"See ya," Daryl replied. The simple phrase masking the premise of what was yet to come. He turned, reaching for his crossbow with shaky hands and headed back to his room, a little overwhelmed with these new feelings. Very nervous, and ...love.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac. The song was borrowed for fictional purposes. Any lyrics used and its copyrights are the rightful property of their respective owners.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the song "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac. The song was borrowed for fictional purposes. Any lyrics used and its copyrights are the rightful property of their respective owners.


	17. ....And Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Beth share a night of passion and Daryl finally comes to terms with his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh ....this chapter! Also, wondering how many of my fellow Bethyler's caught my little shout out in the last line of Chapter 16? "Very nervous, and love" - Thank you for that, Norman Reedus, we all know Daryl Dixon had fallen in love with Beth Greene. That's NOT debatable. Thank you my "editors" xoxo. Thank you for continuing to read ... ~ Lis
> 
> ps: I highly recommend you google "You" by Keaton Henley and play it softly while you read to enhance your chapter experience. I listened to it on repeat while writing this ...It is my true Bethyl love theme song.

**"You"**

_by: Keaton Henley_

If you must wait,

Wait for them here in my arms as I shake

If you must weep,

Do it right here in my bed as I sleep

If you must mourn, my love

Mourn with the moon and the stars up above

If you must mourn,

Don't do it alone

If you must leave,

Leave as though fire burns under your feet

If you must speak,

Speak every word as though it were unique

If you must die, sweetheart

Die knowing your life was my life's best part

And if you must die,

Remember your life

You are

You are

Oh, you are

You are

Oh

If you must fight,

Fight with yourself and your thoughts in the night

If you must work,

Work to leave some part of you on this earth

If you must live, darling one,

Just live

Just live

Just live

...

Daryl stood by the window, contemplating why he felt so damned nervous. Needing something to keep busy, he moved to the fireplace, and grabbing the poker, stoked the embers, stirring the flames back to life again. Satisfied, he returned the poker and walked back to the window, watching the rain rivulets travel down the glass, clenching and unclenching his fists. Only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like hours.

Daryl pushed himself away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed, willing himself to relax, knowing he didn't want to look like an idiot when Beth finally came to him. Bending, he began unlacing his boots, kicking them off and peeling off his socks, he tucked them inside of his boots, and pushed them under the bed and out of the way. Blowing out an impatient breath, he placed his hands on his thighs and concentrated on the sound of the rain hitting the roof. The doorknob turned, and Darryl's breath hitched as his heart picked up it's pace.

Beth entered the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her and clicking the lock into place. "Hey," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," Daryl replied.

She leaned back against the door, her eyes panning the room, then falling on his bare feet, she smiled and pushed herself away from the door, taking a courageous step toward him.

Daryl stood, and met her halfway on shaky legs, relieved when she made the first move, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. The smell of strawberries invading his senses, he closed his arms around her small frame, and rested his chin on her head, content to just hold her, knowing he would never get tired of the way she felt in his arms.

Bringing his arm between them, Daryl hooked a finger under her chin, tilting Beth's face up to gently brush his lips against hers, the connection instantly sending a jolt of desire coursing through him and making him wonder if every kiss they shared would always feel like the first. Damn, he wanted her so badly, he felt like his blood had turned to fire in his veins, but he would take his time tonight.

When Beth began unbuttoning his flannel shirt, Daryl did not protest. He stood patiently, reaching up to pull the elastic band out of her hair, so her could push his fingers through it, catching Beth behind her neck so he could coax her mouth back to his lips once more. He deepened the kiss, teasing her with his tongue as he shrugged out of his shirt, letting it pool at his feet with the rest of his insecurities.

When he felt her hands on the naked flesh of his back, he did not cringe, but reveled in it, enjoying the feel of her fingers against his scars, like a balm to his senses, it was soothing. He did not stop her when she pushed the boundaries further, breaking the kiss and moving behind Daryl to view his scars openly. He stood silently, perfectly still, allowing her to gaze upon this hideous side of him, the proof of the ugly world he had grown up in. She traced a few with her fingertips, then bent to press her lips against one of the more jagged ones and nearly brought Daryl to his knees.

Turning to face her, he gently pressed a kiss to her cheek, surprised when he tasted the salt of her tears. "Beth ..." He muttered, his voice choked with emotions for a moment, he couldn't even form an intelligent sentence, as he cupped her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

"Thought you didn't cry anymore, Greene," he teased her, then kissed her tenderly, his lips barely grazing hers. Gently, he turned her again, so her back was flush with his chest, and placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her cardigan down her arms, it cascaded to the floor at their feet. Tugging her blouse from where it was tucked into her jeans, he slid his hands up under her shirt, running his palms against the smooth expanse of her flat tummy, then grabbing her hips to press her backside against him so she could feel the evidence of his desire for her.

Beth let out a throaty moan, leaning back into Daryl's embrace, her arms twining up behind her head, to pull his face down to hers for another kiss. He took the invitation, greedily devouring her lips in a searing kiss, catching her bottom lip in his teeth as he gently drug his mouth from hers and began nibbling the tender flesh behind her ear. His hands rode upwards again, back under her blouse to cup her soft supple breasts, kneading her flesh gently, as he stroked his thumbs against her nipples, eliciting another soft moan from her.

Stepping back, he took her hands and led her to the bed behind them, sitting her down so he could kneel before her and remove her boots and socks. When they were tucked safely beneath the bed beside his own, he stood and lifted her blouse up over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him, then pushed her gently back into the bed, leaning down to sample the sweet texture of one of her nipples, as it puckered and hardened beneath his skilled tongue. His hands crept to the button fly of her jeans, releasing it, as he drew back, and sliding his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, peeled them down her legs and dropped them to the floor, leaving Beth in only a pair of black panties.

She stared up at him with desire clouding her lovely blue eyes, as Daryl stood back up to his full height and worked the buckle of his belt, releasing it and pushing his pants down his legs, his erection springing forth from the boxers he wore. Bending, he quickly freed himself from that constriction too, standing before her stark naked and completely aroused.

Beth reached for the waistband of her panties, but Daryl was on her immediately, catching her hands in his and pulling her back into a standing position in front of him, switching places with her, he sat on the bed, pulling her to stand between his legs. He brought one of her small hands to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles as she looked down at him at what could only be described as lovingly.

Daryl groaned, pressing his face against her stomach, Beth's hands wound up into his hair, gently cradling his head. He kissed her navel, flicking his tongue against her belly button, making her giggle as goosebumps broke out on her flesh. Pausing, he looked up into her eyes as he slid his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pushed them slowly down her hips, past her thighs and to the floor. Blushing fiercely, she dropped her hands from his hair, unsure of what to do, as Daryl sat openly appreciating her innocent beauty.

"Yer beautiful," he breathed, his voice a harsh whisper, then groaned, reaching for her dainty hands and tugged her gently down into his arms, gasping as their naked skin came into contact.

His calloused palms traveling the curve of her spine Daryl kissed Beth gently, his tongue curling against hers in an erotic dance as old as time. He rolled her over, entwining his fingers with hers as he pressed her into the mattress, his mouth burning a fiery path from her mouth to her throat. Beth moaned beneath him, flexing her fingers in his, her body arching off of the bed to meet his mouth. He kissed her neck, gliding his mouth along her collarbone, his lips coming into contact with her cross pendant, warm from the heat of her skin.

Pushing his knee up between her thighs to part her legs, Daryl's kiss traveled lower, moving between her breasts and down her flat tummy, it pulsed underneath him in tune with her rapid breathing. Finally releasing her hands, Daryl skimmed his hands down her sides and grabbed her behind the knees, opening her legs to his hungry gaze as it settled on the patch of golden curls at the apex of her thighs. His eyes never leaving hers, he pushed his index finger into his mouth, wetting the tip, then pressed it against the core of her womanhood, as Beth's hips bucked up off the bed and she moaned deeply.

With a satisfied smile, he bent to kiss her navel again, boldly letting his lips travel lower against her pubic bone, as he slid his finger down and pushed it inside of her, groaning at how wet she already was.  _Pace yourself_ , he thought, feeling like he was about to explode from just touching her. Beth's moans egging him onward, he kissed the soft curls at the vee of her thighs, and flicked his tongue against her most intimate of parts.

"No," she cried out in surprise, forcing her knees together, crushing Daryl between her legs. "You can't," she panted, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Not there..."

Easing the vice of her thighs back open with his shoulders, Daryl chuckled at her nervousness. "No? Why not?" He asked, moving his finger in and out of her body while he spoke. "Does it feel good?" He flicked his tongue against her navel again, smiling against her skin as she thrust her hips upwards to meet him. "I jus' wanna taste ya," he murmured against her flesh, lowering his face into her curls once more.

Beth groaned, falling back and clutching the bed sheets between her fingers, her legs falling open limply of their own volition as Daryl tasted her womanhood, his mouth bringing her to the brink of ecstasy, her hips involuntarily moving against him. Her moaning became feral sounding as her body fought for the release it craved.

"Please ...," she sighed, unsure of what she was asking for. Her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow, her eyes falling closed as she lost herself in the thoroughs of passion.

Daryl pulled himself up, kneeling over her with a cocky smirk, his face wet from her juices and kissed her mouth, moaning as she rubbed against him, her fingers clawing at the small of his back. He eased himself between her legs, positioning himself for entry.

"Open yer eyes," he demanded softly, finding her hands and twining their fingers once again. "Look at me, Beth."

Her lashes fluttered, as Beth obliged, opening her eyes and fixing her baby blues on him, sending a shiver down his spine as Daryl slowly, so achingly slowly pushed himself inside of her. They groaned together, the sensation of being one rolling through them in waves of pleasure.

Daryl flexed his hips, pulling back just as achingly slowly and entering her again, bending to cover her cries of pleasure with his mouth. He kissed her passionately, his tongue mimicking his hips as Beth lifted her own to meet his thrusts, her eyes never leaving his.

Releasing her hands from his, he grabbed her gently at the waist, and rolled them over, placing Beth on top of him, keeping his knees bent to allow her to adjust to the fullness of his hardness penetrating her so deeply and thought he would die from the sheer pleasure of it.

"C'mon sweetheart," he encouraged her, taking her hands in his again, so she could brace herself against his strength. "Ride me ..." his words trailing off as Beth began to move her hips up and down against him, slowly at first, then picking up tempo.

She shook her hands free of his, placing them on his stomach for leverage as she rode his hips, enjoying her new found power. Back and forth she rocked, grinding her herself against him, her head falling backwards as Daryl pushed his hands up her stomach and cupped her breasts, fighting to keep his hips still, lest he hurt her.

Gleaming with sweat, her body began to quiver, and Daryl knew her release was nearing. Pushing himself upward, he gripped her gently at the waist, folding her legs behind his back, and put them in the lotus position. He smoothed his hands down her back as she gripped his shoulders, pushing his hips against her faster, going deeper with every stroke.

Her head fell back again, her eyes closing as Daryl felt her body closing tighter around him, he groaned, fighting for composure, wanting them to crest together. He ran his hand up the smoothness of her back, holding her at the back of her neck, "Look at me, Beth ..." He groaned.

Her eyes flew open, her moans growing louder as she stared into the depths of his soul, pure unconditional love shinning in her beautiful blue eyes, as the dam broke and her release came hard, wracking her small body. Daryl closed his mouth over hers, absorbing her moans as his own release came, flowing hot and deep inside of her pliant body.

Breaking the kiss, her breathing labored, Beth fell against him, curling her fingers into the spray of hair on his chest, as her heart slowed to its normal pace. "Can I stay?" She asked innocently, burying her face in his shoulder.

Grabbing the blanket folded at the end of the bed, he drug it up over them, leaning back against the pillows, his arms tightening around Beth possessively. He knew for her modesty, he should tell her no and send her back to her own bed, but there was no way in hell he was letting her go tonight. Daryl had never spent the night with a woman in his arms, sending them away when he'd had his fill, but those women were not Beth, and for his own selfish reasons, he threw her modesty to the wind.  _Stupid. Redne... No._

With a content sigh, Beth snuggled against him, draping one shapely leg over his thigh, and tightening her grip around his waist. In a matter of minutes, her breathing evened and slowed as exhaustion claimed her and she fell asleep tucked in the security of Darryl's arms, her head pillowed on his chest.

Daryl stroked his hand down her back, loving the way her smooth skin felt under his fingertips as he stared into the dying fire. He could feel her breath against his skin and knew sleep had found her. Titling his head, he looked down at her face, peaceful in sleep, her long lashes resting on her cheeks, her mouth slightly parted and lost himself in her quiet beauty, knowing that this was it for him. He wasn't strong enough to fight his feelings any longer.

Despite his faults, Beth had accepted him, the others too. The acceptance he had sought his entire life, he'd found with these people at the end of the damn world. He was a good man, and with Beth, he was a better man, and he wasn't going to let any of them down. Especially not her.

"I love you," he whispered against Beth's hair, pressing his lips against her forehead, knowing he still lacked the courage to say it while she was awake, but needing to say it out loud, nonetheless.

His eyelids growing heavy, Daryl watched what was left of the fire paint shadows on the wall, as he listened to the storm rage outside. Catching something in his peripheral vision, his eyes shot to the window, where for a brief moment he swore he saw a face staring back at him, but it had looked suspiciously like Merle's and Merle was dead.

Daryl brushed it off and pulled the covers higher around them, hugging Beth closer as his eyelids finally drifted closed.

Somewhere upstairs a bloodcurdling scream pierced the night, reverberating through the halls.

 


	18. Guilt, Grief and Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mishap on the run leads to unfortunate consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter hits you right in the feels. This chapter is for Ben and his tragic, yet beautiful words. Thanks for reading and enjoy! ~Lis

Daryl shot straight up in bed, incidentally dragging Beth with him. She blinked at him, half asleep in a state of confusion, as he rolled from the bed and drug on his pants, not bothering with his boxers. Reaching blindly in the darkness, he scooped up his flannel shirt and tossed it at her, as he lunged for his crossbow and pulled open the bedroom door.

The lodge erupted in chaos, dumb dog barking up a storm, as everyone spilled out of their rooms and into the hallways, startled and groggy from sleep. Carol and Michonne were banging on the front door and Daryl headed to the common room to let them in, bumping into Rick along the way.

"Judith," Beth mumbled, pushing past them and hurrying into Rick's room to grab the baby, emerging minutes later with Judith on her hip and Carl tucked protectively under her arm.

Glenn stood at the top of the stairs holding a lantern that illuminated the solemn look on his face, "It's Bob," he called down to them.

"It's Bob?" Rick asked, confused.

"You should just come upstairs," Glenn answered, disappearing back into the suite Sasha and Bob shared.

Following Rick, Daryl took the stairs two at a time, the rest of the group on their heels, as they all filed into the bedroom. Bob lay on the bed, burning up with fever, his body covered in sweat, his hurt leg exposed and bleeding from the telltale wound of a Walker bite. Sasha sat beside him, sobbing uncontrollably.

Daryl took in the horrific sight before him, feeling like he'd just gotten punched in the gut, realizing that Bob had been bit earlier today on the run. "Why didn't ya tell us?" He blurted out.

Bob shrugged, his usual easy-go-lucky smile planted on his face. "Knew I only had a few hours left. I wanted to spend them being happy with all of you," he answered, his face scanning the crowd and stopping on Sasha, "And especially you," he continued, squeezing her hand.

"But we could have tried ...," Glenn said, frustrated. "You should have told us."

"Look, we were miles away from here. It wouldn't have mattered. I would have bled out," he reasoned with them. "It's okay. I'm not afraid to go. I'm not alone anymore. I get to die here, surrounded by all of you," he squeezed Sasha's hand again for emphasis.

Sleepy and irritable at being woken up, Judith whined in protest, rubbing at her face and squirming in Beth's arms. "I should really put her back down. Can I get you anything, Bob?"

"Yeah," Bob answered, "How about some whisky? No sense in retaining my sobriety now," he joked. "Can I hold her first?" He asked, gently removing his hand from Sasha's he reached for Judith with outstretched arms.

Looking to Rick for approval, Beth kissed Judith's pudgy cheek and moved closer to the bed, as Rick nodded his okay. Judith fidgeted, none to happy and clung to Beth, wrapping her pudgy little balled up fists in the fabric of Daryl's flannel, drawing the attention of the others that it was not on Daryl, but on Beth, her shapely legs and feet bare underneath.

"Someone needs to keep watch," Carol said, suddenly turning and exiting the room.

"Shhh. You hush now," Bob playfully scolded Judith. "You be brave and strong and take care of everyone now, ya hear?"

Judith shoved one of her fists in her mouth and grunted in reply.

"Okay," Bob smiled, poking her lightly on the nose, " Goodbye little one, back to mama Beth you go," he said, lifting Judith into Beth's waiting arms.

With a sorrowful smile, Beth turned to leave, nodding her head at Carl, indicating he should follow her. She paused at the door, laying her hand briefly on Daryl's arm, then padded softly down the stairs.

Within the minutes that followed, Bob said his goodbyes to everyone, except Daryl, who had ducked out of the room at the first chance he got, no longer able to contain his guilt as he watched Bob lay there and die, smiling like a fool, like everything was beautiful. After dipping back into his room to quickly get dressed, he sought solace outside.

Daryl stood on the porch of the lodge, smoking a cigarette as the rain fell in the darkness around him. He had thought to wait it out, and although it had slowed, it showed no signs of clearing up, so slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, and grabbing the remaining lantern, he leapt off the porch railing and stalked towards the barn.

It was only a short walk, but by the time he arrived at the large hulking structure, he was soaked. With a grunt, he heaved open one of the doors and shown the light into the barn. The pickup truck filled with the supplies from their run loomed in front of him, a painful reminder of yet another of his failures.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Kicking the stale hay at his feet in frustration, Daryl began searching the barn, finding what he needed hanging on the far wall. He grabbed it and headed back out into the rain, looking for a suitable place, deciding on a spot near the lake.

Pushing the shovel into the ground, Daryl dropped the lantern and his crossbow and set to his task, throwing the dirt over to the side. The high grass and the heaviness of the waterlogged soil made it harder, but he kept digging anyway. He was tired of losing people and this was his fault.  _He_  shoved the door, _he_  tripped and fell, this should be  _his_  grave being dug, not Bob's. His anger was his driving force as he dug the hole around him, paying no mind to the rain completely soaking his clothing.

Daryl wasn't sure how much time had passed when Glenn sauntered out to the plot, a jacket draped over his head as he attempted to ward off the rain.

"Bob's asking for you," Glenn said, getting straight to the point.

"I'm busy," Daryl grunted, not bothering to look up.

"Don't you think this can wait?" Glenn asked. When it was obvious Daryl was just going to ignore him, he continued, "This wasn't your fault .."

"Don't," Daryl shot back, cutting him off. "Just don't" he said, continuing to shovel the dirt over his shoulder, wanting Glenn to just go away and leave him alone with his misery and guilt.

Defeated, Glenn turned and headed back to the lodge. Daryl watched him leave out of the corner of his eye, pausing only long enough to remove his leather vest, as it was completely saturated and the water was simply making it unbearable to move. He flung it beside his crossbow, then gripping the handle of the shovel, continued to dig.

He was about two feet into the ground when Sasha came storming out of the lodge, raging worse than the storm, Tyrese not far behind her. Quickly she closed the distance between the lodge and Daryl's hole.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded, looking down at Daryl with disbelief in her eyes. "He ain't even dead yet and your out here digging his grave? He wants to see you!" She cried.

Daryl remained silent, grateful for the cover of darkness so he didn't have to see the pain in her face. He continued to dig, determined to finish, not wanting to face Bob, not wanting to sit in there and watch another person he cared for die before his eyes.

"Daryl!" She yelled.

And still he ignored her.

"Daryl! Stop it!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Frustrated with his silence she began angrily kicking the dirt from his pile back into the hole on top of him. "Stop it, damn you ...stop it!"

"Sasha, stop!" Tyrese came up behind her, catching her before she dove in the hole. He wrapped his arms around her, but she shook him off.

"Forget you," she spat in Daryl's direction and took off running back to the lodge, leaving Tyrese to follow after her again.

When she was gone, Daryl began to dig more furiously, repeating his mantra over and over in his head.  _Stupid._  Dig.  _Redneck._  Dig.  _Asshole._  Dig.  _Failure._  Dig.  _Failure, failure, failure!_  Sasha was angry with him, but it in no way compared to how angry he was with himself.

The rain water literally dripping down his hair and into his eyes, Daryl wiped his forearm against his brow, in a sad attempt to dry his face, but it was useless, as his clothing were sodden. They clung to his skin, heavy and uncomfortable, making each shovel load of dirt feel ten times heavier. His palms were blistered from his grip slipping on the handle due to the moisture and his fingers looked pickled and pruned but he just kept on digging.

He sensed her presence before she even spoke.

"Daryl ..." Her soft voice called to him from above, like an angel messenger straight from the heavens. He closed his eyes, pausing for just a moment.

"You've been out here for awhile," Beth said. "You're soaked, you haven't eaten anything and I know you haven't slept. Will you please come inside and get warm?"

"No," he grunted, continuing to dig again.

Beth was silent for a moment, contemplating her next words carefully. With a heavy sigh, she took a seat in the wet grass beside the lantern, hugging her knees to her chest and watched him.

"Whaddya doin'?" He growled over his shoulder, refusing to look at her.

"Waiting," she answered calmly, tossing her braid over her shoulder.

"Go back inside," Daryl demanded.

"No," her tone was not mean, but left no room for argument, and Daryl knew she meant it. Knew she would sit out here with him all night if she had to.

Letting out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush, Daryl tossed the shovel onto the grass and pulled himself up out of the grave, damning her for knowing that his care for her wellbeing far outweighed his own damn selfishness. Extending his hand, he yanked her up from the grass, handing her the lantern, and then grabbed his vest and crossbow.

Heaving his bow over his shoulder, he draped his vest over his forearm and used the shovel as a walking stick, as he followed Beth back to the lodge, leaving the shovel on the porch. Only when he was back inside did he realize how cold he suddenly was. Ignoring the questioning looks of the others, he went straight to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

A fluffy white towel was folded neatly at the foot of the bed next to a pile of clean, dry clothing and the fire had been revived in the fireplace.  _Beth_. Daryl sighed, propping his crossbow by the door and tossing his sopping wet vest onto the loveseat. He walked to the fireplace, holding his fingers to the flames, flexing them as the feeling returned to his cold, wrinkled flesh, then sorely regretted it as the pain from his blisters roared to life too. Clenching his fists, he accepted the pain, taking it as his penance.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Bending, Daryl removed his boots, leaving them by the fire to dry out, then shirked his wet clothing, leaving them where they dropped and quickly toweled off, rubbing the color back into his cold pale skin. When he was dry, he tugged on the clean clothing, thankful to be warm, then dropped to the bed, his head in his hands, feeling like the weight of the world was once again on his shoulders.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, Daryl stood and ran a shaky hand through his wet hair. He knew it was time to go see Bob, knew it was time for yet another painful goodbye. Knew that no matter what anyone said, it was his fault, was and always would be. And perhaps worst of all, knowing full well that it should have been him, but oh so damn thankful that it wasn't. Thankful that he'd still be here tomorrow, surrounded by his family. Thankful that he'd still be here to lose himself in Beth's beautiful blue eyes ... Thankful that it was Bob laying up there dying and not him. And that, not only made him the biggest piece of shit left in this world, but also, far, so far from a good man.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Before he lost his courage, Daryl pulled open the bedroom door and stalked down the hall towards the common room, his bare feet slapping against the wood floors. He stopped briefly at the bar, grabbing a bottle of whisky and two shot glasses, before climbing the stairs. Pausing for a moment just outside the door, Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat and knocked softly before entering.

If it was possible, Bob looked worse. He was dripping with sweat, his breathing harsh and labored, yet he still greeted Daryl with his award winning smile. Only Rick, Tyrese and Sasha remained behind in the room.

"It's about time you got here," Bob joked. "Always fashionably late to the party, huh?"

Daryl nodded, forcing a smile and raised the whisky bottle and shot glasses.

Bob's smile grew bigger, "Ahhh, well you're forgiven, my friend."

His words were meant to be funny, but they ripped through Daryl like a thousand well honed blades.

"I'm gonna go check on Carl and Judith," Rick said, getting up from the chair he'd been perched on. "I'll be back," he said, moving towards the bedroom door.

"Thanks for staying with me Rick," Bob replied. "Kiss that baby for me."

"Will do," Rick answered with a solemn smile. Pulling his knife from its sheath, he handed it to Sasha.

She accepted it, her big brown eyes overflowing with unshed tears. Then shook her head violently and dropped the knife to the bed, "No, I can't!" She cried, fresh tears streamed down her face, streaking her cheeks.

"It's okay, Sasha. You don't have to, baby. You don't have to." Bob comforted her as best as he could, sitting forward so he could wrap his arms around her, the exertion throwing him into a coughing fit. He caught his breath, and nodded at Rick, mouthing the words "thank you." Rick nodded back, a final farewell and left the bedroom, pulling the door closed quietly behind him.

Daryl crossed the room in a few quick strides and took a seat in the chair Rick had previously occupied, flipping it around so he could straddle it, he laid the whisky and shot glasses on the bedside table.

"I'll do it," Daryl said, unable to stop the words from tumbling from his mouth. Figuring he owed Bob that much.

"I appreciate that," Bob said, handing him Rick's knife. "Now how about you pour us that drink?"

Daryl leaned forward, accepting the knife and tucking it into his pocket. He twisted the cap off of the whisky, letting it fall to the table, and grabbing the bottle, poured the amber liquid equally into their glasses. Topping them off, he carefully lifted one of the shot glasses and handed it to Bob. "What should we drink ta?" He asked, reaching for his own glass.

"To friendship," Bob answered, raising his glass. "To family, and to the women we love," he finished, tilting the shot glass to his lips.

Daryl raised his glass saluting Bob, and threw back the whisky in one gulp, exhaling as the fiery liquid burned a path down the back of his throat. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol since the night he and Beth got lit and torched the moonshine shack, but today was as good a day as any ...whatever helped to ease the guilt.

Several minutes passed with only the sounds of Sasha's sobbing filling the room. Daryl leaned forward and refilled his own glass, then handed Bob the bottle. He struggled with his grip, his hands shaking, and Sasha reached to help him bring it to his lips for another swig.

"Thank you my love," he said softly, his breathing becoming more labored by the minute. "Won't be long now," he mumbled, squeezing Sasha's hand. His award winning smile returning, he turned to Daryl. "I'm sorry you got to kill me."

"I already did," Daryl mumbled, stroking the hair on his chin, the weight of his own words threatening to crush his very soul.  _Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

"Stop that," Bob snapped, struggling for breath as another coughing fit ensued. "This isn't anymore your fault then the damn zombie apocalypse! And you remember this, while your blaming yourself for the rest of what's left of your miserable life ..." He paused, gasping for air. "When you found me that day in the woods, I was dead. You saved my life," he enunciated slowly. "Even if I didn't realize it at the time, I do now," he nodded. "After you hit rock bottom, the only way to go from there is up ...remember that."

Absorbing Bob's words, Daryl remained silent. Lifting his shot glass, he drained the contents and set the glass back down on the bedside table.

Bob settled back into the pillows and lifted his fingers to his throat to take his own pulse, moving slowly, the fever sapping his life force. "My heart rate is almost nonexistent," he smirked. "Why don't the two of you get the hell out of my room so I can give a proper goodbye to this beautiful woman here beside me," he said, laughing weakly.

Standing, Daryl pushed the chair back against the wall and followed Tyrese out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him, he leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and waited.

When Sasha's sobs turned to outright wailing, Daryl knew it was time. Pushing himself away from the wall, he dug into his pocket for Rick's knife and reached for the doorknob.

 


	19. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with the tragic loss of a beloved group member, Daryl struggles with his guilt. Daryl and Beth run into some trouble while they're out searching for fuel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies. I hope you enjoy this next installment ...I am quite fond of this chapter and truly enjoyed writing it. Let me know ... xoxo ~ Lis

It had been two days since Bob had died. Two days since they had lain him to rest by the lake. Two days Daryl had spent in solitude, keeping to himself, yet two days that he had still endured the countless speeches of "it wasn't your fault" every time someone had him within earshot. He had said goodbye and he made his peace with Bob, but he had yet to make peace with himself.

_Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Of course life had gone on while he had occupied his time being evasive. The supplies from the run had been unloaded from the truck, it sat parked in front of the porch once again. Sasha had finally came out of the bedroom, even visiting Bob's grave since she had refused to be present at his burial. Judith had crawled for the first time, now actually having the space and a safe place to do it. And finally, and undoubtably the most painful for Daryl, for the last two days, he had avoided Beth at all costs.

The rain had finally run its course some time last night and the run back down the mountain had been put off long enough. It was time to travel down the other side and remove the signs, if any, so Daryl could finally put his mind at ease and see if he could rustle up some gasoline for the generator.

He had just finished checking the fluids in the Jeep, going through his usual pre-run checklist and everything was ready to go. Daryl would have preferred to take the pickup truck, but the group was making use of it today, carrying the wood needed to fix the barn roof and reinforce the fence. He had stuffed the back of the Jeep full of what he could fit of their collection of empty gas cans, grateful he had no room for passengers, he was in no mood to be a team player today. Grabbing his cigarettes off the dashboard, Daryl flipped open the pack and stuck one in his mouth, striking a match and lighting it. He never left on a run without his customary parting smoke.

The sound of barking disturbed the silence as the stupid dog raced past him, chasing a rabbit through the yard. "Dumb dog," Daryl mumbled, shaking his head. "Can't even hunt right, yer disgraceful," he criticized it.

"Maybe you should teach him," Beth said, coming down the porch steps, just as beautiful as he remembered her, golden hair loose and swinging around her. She was dressed in her usual fare, except for the gun tucked into her belt and the backpack slung over her shoulder. "And his name is Willie," she informed him, matter-of-factly with a coy tilt to her head.

"Willie?" Daryl asked, breaking his vow of silence where she was concerned. "Why?"

"Because he has one eye, silly." Beth laughed as she rounded the Jeep on the passenger side and dropped her backpack into the passenger seat.

"Woah!" Daryl exclaimed, exhaling a puff of smoke. "What do ya think yer doin'?" he eyed her suspiciously.

"I'm goin' with you," she replied, pulling open the passenger door.

Daryl snorted in disbelief, "No yer not." He took one last drag of his cigarette and dropped it, stomping it harder into the ground than necessary. After what had just happened to Bob, there was no way he was going to risk the life of the most important person on earth to him.

"Yes I am. I already spoke to Rick about it," she answered stubbornly, settling herself into the passenger seat and positioning her legs carefully on either side of Daryl's crossbow that sat on the floor, she shut the door behind her, ready to go.

Just as stubborn, Daryl stood stoic, refusing to budge.

Beth sighed, "Look Daryl, theres something I need to get," Beth reasoned with him. "It's personal," she added, noting the subject was off-limits before he even asked.

His curiosity piqued and not wanting to waste any more time, Daryl relented and climbed into the Jeep, slamming the door shut, his mind drumming up all the 'personal' possibilities, and none of them good. Trying to find the silver lining of his current predicament, he figured at least he could keep an eye on her.

Shifting the Jeep into first gear, Daryl pushed in the clutch and turned the key in the ignition and the quiet engine hummed to life. "Buckle up," he grumbled, releasing the e-brake, he let out the clutch slowly and gave it some gas, stopping briefly at the gate so Maggie and Tara could let them out. It was hard to miss the bewildered, then scathing look that crossed Maggie's features as he drove through. Shifting the Jeep into second gear and punching the gas, Daryl hightailed it down the stone mountain road and away from the lodge, making a left turn at the bottom of the hill, and heading down the opposite side of the mountain.

Daryl downshifted and slowed the Jeep to a crawl as they approached the abandoned car he had seen the other day in the storm. It was empty, the doors on the passenger side both hung open as if it's last occupants had gotten out in a hurry.

"You think it has gas?" Beth asked.

Daryl shrugged. "Only one way ta find out," he replied, pulling the Jeep onto the shoulder of the road in front of the abandoned car, and cut the engine, pulling up the e-brake.

Without giving it a second thought, Daryl reached between Beth's legs for his crossbow, his hand accidentally brushing against her inner thigh. She gasped, lowering her eyes and blushed furiously. As if he'd just been burned, Daryl yanked his hand back, clutching it to his chest like a wounded animal, and quickly pushed open the drivers side door, pulling his knife instead.

If he had hurt her feelings, Beth hid it well. Sliding out of the passenger seat and joining him at the back of the Jeep, she stood watch as he pulled out an empty gas can and siphoned what gas the abandoned car had to offer, which wasn't much, and then they were back on the road again.

They drove down the rest of the mountain in silence, Daryl swerving occasionally to avoid a Walker, stopping whenever they saw an abandoned car to siphon the gasoline from its tank. So far they had filled three of the seven cans and things were looking pretty grim. They were already in what could be called the business district, bordering the next town when they came upon a small residential development. It was a gated community, the stone wall surrounding it housed a plaque that read "Smokey Mountain Estates".

Guiding the Jeep up over the curb, Daryl drove over the grass, and entered the community. There were a few Walkers roaming about, but nothing that looked too hazardous.

"That one," Beth said, pointing to a large two story house with a minivan in the driveway, unbuckling her seat belt as Daryl pulled behind the van and jerked the e-brake up.

Beth reached between her legs and grabbed Daryl's bow, sparing them both the awkwardness, and handed it to him, as he got out of the Jeep and came around to the passenger side to get her. They made their way cautiously to the garage door that was partially open, Beth again standing guard, her gun held out in front of her, as Daryl lowered himself to the ground to look underneath.

"Stay here," he ordered, rolling under the door and disappearing from sight for a moment. After some clattering and banging around from inside the garage, he pulled up the door from the other side, just enough for Beth to duck under, then lowered it again.

"Too bad I didn't teach ya how ta drive stick yet," Daryl said, pointing to the far corner of the garage where a motorcycle sat collecting dust.

"We can always come back," Beth offered with a sympathetic smile.

Daryl nodded, pushing her behind him as they moved towards the door that connected to the house. Raising his crossbow, Daryl reached with his free hand and rapped his knuckles on the door, then brought his index finger to his mouth, indicating for Beth to be silent. The house remained quiet, so Daryl reached for the knob and swung the door open, its hinges groaning in protest as he stepped inside with Beth right behind him. Although cluttered, the house appeared to be clean. They stepped into the kitchen and looked for anything worth pillaging.

Finding a diaper bag on the counter, Beth tore it open, digging through the contents to see if it had anything useful. Her smile so big, you'd think she just found the holy grail, she pulled a couple of useless things out and laid them on the counter top.

"Just dump it out," Daryl suggested, emptying the batteries out of all the TV remotes and dropping them on the counter in front of her, indicating for her to put them in the bag.

Beth shook her head no, "I need it," she said, leaving Daryl perplexed. She turned to the kitchen cabinets and tore them open, letting out an excited squeal at her discovery. Pulling two large canisters of powdered baby formula out, she laid them by the diaper bag, along with two baby bottles and a couple of cans of fruit cocktail and various canned vegetables. Shrugging at her weird behavior, Daryl laid his crossbow on the kitchen counter and began scavenging around the living room, looking for anything useful, while Beth continued to search the cabinets.

Coming up with nothing, he headed to the staircase, instructing Beth to stay downstairs. "Mmm hmmm,"'she called back to him, enveloped in her task. Pulling his knife from its sheath on his belt, Daryl ascended the steps slowly, straining his ears for anything that sounded out of place. As he reached the top landing, he groaned, realizing all the doors were closed. Going from left to right, he began opening them, poised, knife in hand, making sure the rooms were empty.

"Daryl," Beth called, to him from the bottom of stairs as he pulled open the next door.

"I said to stay downsta-" Daryl yelled, as he opened the next door and two Walkers came charging out at him from the confined closet space. Daryl grabbed the closest one, throwing it against the wall and stabbed it in the head, but the other one ran right past him, and straight for Beth who was coming up the stairs.

She screamed, reaching for her knife, but it was too late, having no motor skills, the Walker stumbled on the steps, slamming into Beth and sending them both toppling down the stairs, the Walker chomping its teeth at her.

Practically falling down the stairs himself, Daryl lunged for the Walker, as Beth screamed from beneath it, trying to keep her limbs away from its rotting mouth. Grabbing it around the waist, Daryl hauled it away from her, throwing it to the floor and climbing on its back, he grabbed its head and repeatedly slammed it into the floor, over and over until there was nearly nothing left of its skull.  _Stupid_ , slam.  _Redneck_ , slam.  _Asshole_ , slam.  _Failure_ , slam.

"Daryl stop, it's dead," Beth said, placing her hand on his shoulder to halt him.

Shrugging from her touch, Daryl was on his feet in an instance, his anger overriding his good judgement, and still feeling the need to lash out, he snatched a vase full of fake flowers off of the table at the landing and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, glass exploding in little pieces all around them as he got up in her face. "I told ya ta stay downstairs!" He yelled. "What tha hells wrong wit ya? Ya coulda been killed!"

Taken off guard by his sudden burst of anger, Beth stumbled backwards from his advance, catching her foot on the leg of an end table, she lost her balance and fell to the ground, landing hard on her left arm, and yelped in pain. Daryl was at her side in an instant, dropping to his knees, he reached for her injured arm, but Beth jerked it away from him, wincing in pain.

"Don't," she snapped at him, stubbornly pulling herself to her feet on her own and walking back towards the kitchen. She gently rotated her arm, trying to loosen it up, gritting her teeth against the pain.

Daryl watched her, feeling like an ass. His anger still boiled just beneath the surface, but he held it in check, wanting to make sure she was alright. "Lemme see," he said, moving to her side and reaching for her arm once more.

"I said don't," she snarled, moving out of his reach and placing herself a safe distance away, on the other side of the island counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen.

"Tha hell wit ya then!" Daryl shot back, throwing his arm in the air out of frustration.

Pursing her lips, fire smoldering in her blue eyes, Beth reached for an empty glass sitting on the counter and threw it at the wall behind Daryl. He ducked as it hit the plaster and shattered, spraying glass in all directions.

"Tha hell are ya doin'?" Daryl growled, looking at her like she'd lost her damn mind. "Ya crazy girl?"

Her eyes scanning the counters, she scooped up a bowl and sent that crashing into the wall too.

"Knock it off Greene," Daryl yelled, side stepping the shards of glass that bounced off of the drywall.

Whirling around, she threw open one of the cabinets and grabbing up another glass, sent that flying too, heaving it at the wall as hard as she could.

"Dammit Beth, stop!" Daryl yelled, rounding the counter in her direction. "What tha hell are ya doin'?"

"Dealing with my problems the Daryl Dixon way," she shot back, also rounding the counter to stay out of his grasp, her eyes scanning her surroundings for the next object to use in her aerial assault.

"Don't," he warned her in a low growl.

"No, you don't!" She fired back, undeterred and not afraid. "What happened to Bob wasn't your fault and it's time to let it go."

Daryl continued to circle the counter, as did Beth, being sure to keep out of his reach. "This isn't about him."

"Bullshit," Beth answered. "I know you blame yourself. I know you think it should have been you. And now ya feel like you have to punish yourself and push people away again," she lowered her eyes and continued, "push me away."

Daryl closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Yer wrong," he shook his head in denial, lying through his teeth.

"Am I?" She asked quietly. "Am I Daryl?" She repeated, her voice getting louder. She quick snatched up a coffee mug by the sink and tossed it at the cabinets behind his head. "Where ya been for the last two days Daryl? Huh?"

Daryl flinched, more from her words than the flying pieces of glass. "Ya don't get it," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Make me understand then," Beth replied, laying her palms flat on the counter, she leaned over narrowing her blue eyes on him.

"People countin' on me all tha time ...needin' protection, expectin' ta know all tha answers," the words rushed out of his mouth, jumbled like his racing thoughts. Beth was digging in again, making him face his demons. "No wonder Rick goes bat shit crazy now an' then," he snorted.

"You want me to feel bad because people look up to you?" Beth asked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "Deal with it Daryl, you're a leader."

"I ain't!" He shot back, slamming his fist on the counter, causing Beth to flinch. "Rick's tha leader."

"And you're his right hand man. That makes you a leader too," Beth insisted.

"Told ya I was tired of losin' people," he said quietly, casting his gaze to the floor, unable to handle Beth's intense blue glare. "But I know it's jus' gon' keep happenin' no matter what I do."

"That's right Daryl," Beth nodded, "that's the world we live in now. But I'm not gonna hide myself in a hole and stop living, and I'm not gonna let you do that either! We're good people. We don't get to give up. We push forward. We bury our dead and we mourn them, and we keep going, for them," she finished adamantly.

"I shoved tha door! I lost my footin'! Got distracted, jus' like upstairs! It shoulda been me!" He yelled at her.

"But it wasn't!" Beth yelled back, reaching for another coffee mug. "Bob didn't blame you," She continued. "Neither does anyone else. It's all in your own damn mind and if you keep letting it drag you down every time something bad happens, it's gonna kill you. Little by little, bit by bit," she finished, testing the weight of the mug in her hand.

"If ya throw one more damn dish at me Greene, I swear ..." Daryl, threatened her, then ducked as the mug sailed over his head, crashing into the front of the microwave.

"You'll what?" She demanded, challenging him, her fingers already curling around another mug.

Heaving himself over the counter and sliding to the other side, Daryl grabbed for Beth, she was quick, but he was quicker, imprisoning her between himself and the counter, he glared down at her, his nostrils flaring in anger. Pressing her back into the counter, his face a mere breath from hers, he grabbed for the mug she still clutched, disengaging it from her grasp, it clattered to the floor behind them. Jaw squared, eyes defiant, she glared back, standing her ground. He knew she wasn't afraid of him, she had proven time and again that she was one of the few who would go toe to toe with him, call him on his bullshit, especially when he was wrong.

Her chest rapidly rose and fell, her breathing, like his, accelerated due to their anger. Emotions high, the tension crackled in the air between them, taught like a chord and threatening to snap and consume them at any moment. The angry tears she'd been holding back gave way, slowly trickling down her flushed cheeks. Lifting her injured arm, she swiped them away with the sleeve of her sweater. "And when you push me away, after all we've been through," she paused, placing her hand over her heart, "it hurts me here."

Daryl towered over her silently, her words cutting him to his core. When that Walker had charged her on the stairs, It was like Bob all over again, only painstakingly more horrible. She had told him before that he was gonna be the last man standing, and that was the worst possible thing she could have ever said to him. Walkers, bad people, starving to death, even losing the people he cared about ...he could handle that shit, but nothing in this world scared him more than the thought of not having those baby blue eyes challenging him along the way. He didn't want to live in a world without Beth Greene. Refused to. "I can't lose ya," he mumbled, putting his thoughts to words.

The anger in her eyes faded, her features softening as she studied his face. "Don't you get it, Daryl?" She asked quietly, a little laugh working its way up her throat. "You unbelievable stubborn ass, ...I love you."

Daryl was on her in an instant, his lips crushing down upon hers in a fiery kiss. A kiss so filled with longing and quiet desperation it sent shock waves reverberating through him. Like a drowning man, he clung to her, terrified that if he didn't she would disappear again, the way she always did in his dreams. He loved her, he knew that to be the truest thing he'd ever felt. More so than he had ever loved anyone or anything in his entire pitiful life and to deny that would be a lie. His heart rejoiced in it, reveled in it, for the first time feeling a purpose, and all the while cursing himself for the damaged piece of shit shell of a man that he'd become because he could not summon the courage to say it back, to say it aloud like she deserved. He just wasn't ready.

The crunching of glass, the click of a gun, and suddenly Beth was spiraling downward, the floor coming up to meet her, as Daryl shoved her to safety. In the literal blink of an eye, Daryl had grabbed up his crossbow and fired it with deadly accuracy, striking the wall across from them, just scant inches from his mark.

"I did that on purpose," Daryl growled at the man standing across the counter, his voice low and menacing. "I don't have ta miss."

 


	20. Befriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is this stranger? Will Beth and Daryl be okay? Will they find the fuel and supplies they need and make it home okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tuning in guys ~ Lis

"I believe you," the stranger said. He dropped his gun instantly, sheer terror in his eyes. It hit the ground with a thud and he kicked it away for good measure, raising his arms in the air to show complete surrender. "I'm not looking for trouble."

"But ya sure found it, didn't ya?" Daryl asked in that same menacing tone, eyeing up the young man standing before him. He couldn't be any older than Beth ...nineteen, twenty maybe, and dumb as hell obviously, considering Daryl hadn't even reloaded his bolt. He looked scared, tired and too skinny. "Whaddya want?" He asked him, continuing his farce.

"This is my home," he answered. "Take whatever you need, I won't stop you, but please ...don't hurt me."

"Ya got any more weapons on ya?" Daryl asked, taking care of the first order of business.

The stranger nodded vigorously, "A knife," he replied, slowly moving his hand down to the hem of his shirt and peeling it back to reveal the knife holstered at his belt.

"Take it off," Daryl ordered him, keeping his crossbow trained on him, he indicated for him to drop it on the counter. The stranger did as he was instructed, moving with slow deliberation.

"Turn around an' get up against tha wall," Daryl said, following his every move as the man once again did as he was told. Daryl noted he moved with a limp.

"Please don't hurt me," he said again, placing his palms and cheek flat against the wall.

Daryl ignored him, reaching down to help Beth up from the floor, the look in his eyes apologetic for shoving her there without warning. With practiced accuracy, he quickly pulled the chord taught, reloaded a bolt and handed her his crossbow, as he retrieved his knife from his belt. "If he so much as breathes funny, ya put a bolt in his head."

"What? It wasn't even loaded?" He asked in shock. "You've gotta be kidding me?"

"Shut up dumbass," Daryl snarled.

Beth nodded she was ready, wincing from the weight of Daryl's crossbow, her arm still paining her, but she held it steady as Daryl slowly advanced on the stranger and patted him down for weapons.

"Ya alone?" Daryl asked him, turning him around and pinning him against the wall by the scruff of his shirt.

"I am now," he answered sadly, his eyes downcast. "My uncle ...he's gone. Died six days ago."

"What's yer name kid?" Daryl asked, his tone softening a bit. His gut was telling him the stranger was not a threat, but he wasn't about to take any chances, especially with Beth around.

"Noah," he answered.

"This is your home, Noah?" Beth chimed in to ask.

"I lived down the block," he replied. "I just ...I couldn't stay there anymore. Not after he died ..." His voice trailed off.

There were still good people left. Far and few in between, but there was still some. "How many Walkers ya kill?" Daryl asked, taking a chance.

Noah looked confused, but answered honestly. "Too many to count."

"How many people ya kill?" Daryl asked the next initiation question, his grip tightening on the boys shirt again, his eyes narrowed.

"None," Noah answered, swallowing nervously at Daryl's aggression. "The guns just for show. It doesn't even have any bullets," he nodded towards his discarded weapon on the floor.

Daryl let go of the boys shirt and scooped up the gun, pressing the button on the handle grip to eject the magazine. It was empty, Noah had told the truth, but Daryl stuck it in the back of his pants for safekeeping. "Ya came at us with an empty gun? How many shades'a stupid are ya?"

"I ...I thought I could just scare you away," Noah stammered. "Hoped maybe you were nice people. I guess I'm just tired of being alone," he blew out a breath, sounding defeated.

Daryl was silent a moment, his face impassive, not revealing any emotions while he considered what to do. Sliding his knife back into its sheath on his belt, he glanced at Beth and then turned to Noah. "Ya wanna come wit us?" Daryl asked him suddenly, not missing the small curve of a smile on Beth's lips as she lowered the crossbow.

"Uhhh ...yeah," Noah answered, once again nodding his head vigorously, relief washing over his features as he realized he wasn't going to die or be left alone.

"We got people. We came fer supplies ...gas mostly," Daryl explained.

"There's a drum in Mr. Clark's yard," Noah offered, trying to please them. "He was one of those survivalists ...had a bunker and everything. We stayed with him for awhile until the food ran out and we were forced back above ground. He got bit. I don't know if there's any fuel left, though."

"Gas or oil?" Daryl asked, smoothing the hair at his chin.

"Gas I think," Noah shrugged. "I can show you."

"We got some things ta take care of first," Daryl said, taking his crossbow from Beth's aching arms and slinging it over his shoulder. This time when he reached for her, she didn't pull away, accepting his touch, as he grabbed her around the waist and sat her bottom on the counter top, then gently lifted her arm to examine it. "I think it's jus' a sprain. We can find sumthin' ta rip ... a shirt maybe, make ya a sling," he said. "Ya'l be alright."

"She okay?" Noah asked, concern evident in his voice as he leaned over Daryl's shoulder.

"Yah," Daryl answered him, but kept his eyes trained on Beth. "She's a tough chick," he said, gently chucking her under her chin, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a half smile. "Ain't ya?" he asked her, feeling a warmth spread over him as she smiled back, giving his hips a quick squeeze with her knees. Suddenly remembering Noah was there beside him, Daryl cleared his throat and tried to figure out how they were all going to get back without leaving any of the gas cans behind. "Can ya drive?" Daryl asked him. They certainly weren't all going to fit in the Jeep.

"Yeah," Noah nodded. "My uncle recently replaced the battery in the van out front. It's got some gas too. We were gonna head to Fort Bragg ..." he let his words trail off.

"Can ya drive stick?" Daryl was hopeful. Maybe he didn't have to leave the motorcycle behind after all.

"It's been awhile, but yeah," Noah said, scratching the back of his head, he looked nervous.

Daryl eyed him suspiciously. "Ya sure?"

"Yeah ...yes," Noah replied. "Like I said, it's just been awhile."

"Think ya can drive wit one arm?" Daryl turned to Beth, placing his hand on her good shoulder.

Beth smiled, knowing Daryl wanted to bring the motorcycle home. She nodded, "yes."

"Noah, see if ya can find garbage bags, or sumthin' ta pack tha shit we need," Daryl said, running his hand down the length of Beth's arm and taking her hand in his.

Noah rushed to his task, pulling open cabinets and drawers until he found a box of garbage bags and held them up for Daryl's approval. "Here you go dude," he said, handing them over.

"Dude?" Daryl asked, quirking an eyebrow as Beth stifled a giggle.

"Yeah, well ...I don't know your names," Noah said sheepishly.

"I'm Beth, and this is Daryl," Beth introduced them with a quick jerk of her thumb in either of their directions.

"Okay. Umm ... look," Noah said, shifting his weight to his other foot, looking uncomfortable. "Please don't be mad. I have another knife ..." He admitted. "It's over there, tucked under the couch cushion where I sleep," he pointed to the living room, the terrified look creeping into his eyes again.

Daryl was thoughtful a minute, feeling Beth squeeze his hand in hers. "Pack it wit tha rest of yer shit," Daryl said, and Noah was nodding his head vigorously again, his face awash in relief once more.

Grabbing a handful of garbage bags, Noah began walking around and gathering his things from the living room, along with anything he thought might be useful. Daryl grabbed up the box of garbage bags, tucking it under his arm, he entwined his fingers with Beth, leading her up the stairs and into the empty master bedroom, looking for a long sleeved shirt. Throwing open the closet, he found what he was looking for. Shaking it out, he pulled his knife, slicing a slit just above the elbow, and helped her ease her arm inside, pushing her hand out through the hole he'd slit, then taking the end of the two sleeves, he tied them behind her neck, tucking the rest of the shirt around her injured arm. It wasn't pretty, but it would suffice.

"We can fill that van up, so check an' see if there's anythin' ya need," Daryl said, opening up the top drawer of one of the dressers and grabbing a handful of men's socks. "Or anythin' ya think someone else needs," he added.

Beth took one of the garbage bags and looked around the room, her eyes falling on a dress that was hanging on the side of a free standing mirror and sighed. "I miss being a girl," she said sadly, touching her fingers to the pretty white fabric that was adorned with cornflower blue cabbage rose print.

"Still are, last time I checked," Daryl said to her reflection in the mirror, then resumed digging in the other drawers, tossing clothing and other useful items in the garbage bag he was filling.

"That's not what I meant," Beth answered sharply, not missing his innuendo. Letting her fingers brush the fabric as she walked away, she began tossing practical women's clothing in her bag, things to fit everyone and a comfortable pair of white flip flops for her to wear around the lodge. She moved to the closet and began digging, finding some maternity jeans and tops stuffed in the very back, she tossed them in the bag for Maggie, then headed to the nursery in the adjoining room.

A few minutes later, Noah joined them upstairs and under Daryl's instruction, helped Beth pack up anything needed from the nursery while he tackled the bathroom, shoving everything and anything in the bag not knowing what half of the woman stuff was, but figuring it might come in handy to someone somewhere down the line.

"Time ta go," he announced, then made one more trip back to the bedroom to grab something he forgot. When it was all said and done, they stood in the garage with nine trash bags stuffed to bursting, the diaper bag, and another pack-n-play Beth insisted they needed.

"What's the plan?" Noah asked, as Daryl pulled the motorcycle away from the wall and sat on it, his thighs gripping its sides, as he rocked it, listening for the telltale slosh to make sure it had fuel.

"How far is this drum?" Daryl asked, walking the bike to the garage door and lowering the kickstand.

"Two houses over," Noah answered.

Daryl stroked his chin, as he often did when he was thinking. "Let's load tha van first. I'll coast tha bike over ta keep tha noise level down," he suggested, his eyes traveling from Beth to Noah as he climbed off of the motorcycle.

Lowering himself to the ground, Daryl peered under the garage door. "There's 'bout four out there now," he said, pulling himself back up from the ground. "No thanks ta yer redecoratin' in tha kitchen earlier, I'm sure," he threw sarcastically at Beth, bending to grab the garage door and ignoring the sour look she gave him. "Ya stay behind me, an' watch yer back," he told her, the tone of his voice deadly serious now. Then, nodding at Noah, he jerked the garage door upwards, and advanced on the first Walker, stabbing it in the head, then quickly swung his bow off his back, using it to bash in the skull of the next one behind it, checking that Beth was still safely behind him. Noah took out the third one, plunging his knife in its eye socket, and a well aimed bolt took out the fourth one.

Moving with haste, Daryl and Noah quickly loaded the minivan with the the supplies they'd gathered, Beth scolding them when they tried to remove the two car seats inside, and not telling them why. Daryl shrugged, he didn't pretend that he knew what crazy shit went on in women's minds sometimes.

After the bags were loaded, Daryl tucked Beth safely into the drivers seat of the minivan, instructing her to follow Noah to this Mr. Clarks house, then hurried to the motorcycle and straddled the seat. Kicking up the kickstand, he put the bike neutral and waved his arm, giving them the signal to go, cringing as he heard the grinding of the gears as Noah struggled putting the Jeep in reverse. Balancing himself, Daryl coasted the bike down the incline of the driveway, following the caravan as they reversed and drove the short distance to the neighbors house.

Noah jumped out of the Jeep, and waited by the gate, as Daryl helped Beth out of the van. They crept cautiously around to the back of the house, spotting and killing only one Walker, who Noah identified as Mr. Clark, before coming to the fuel drum. Daryl gripped the sides, shaking it gently and smiled.

"It's a little more than half full," he announced, twisting the cap so he could smell its contents. The smell of gasoline wafted out at them. Now they just had to figure out how to get it home with them.

"Can we roll it?" Noah asked.

"I 'spose," Daryl answered, chewing the tip of his thumb. "But how tha hell we gonna get it in tha Jeep, it's heavier than a son-of-a-bitch."

It was Beth's time to shine. "Why don't we fill the cars with the gas we already collected in the cans and then fill them with this?" She asked. "That should lighten it up enough to lift it then, right?"

Damn but she was clever, Daryl thought to himself. "That jus' might work Greene," he said, beaming at her with pride.

With the help of Noah, Daryl lowered the drum gently to the ground and rolled it slowly around the house, then utilizing Noah's help again, they stood it upright beside the Jeep. It took awhile to execute Beth's plan, but eventually, all three of the vehicles had full tanks of gas, the gas cans were all filled, and the drum, still heavy as hell, but light enough for Daryl and Noah to now lift, was wedged into the passenger seat of the Jeep, just barely fitting with the seat pushed all the way back.

"Ya better drive safely," Daryl teased Noah, "that's a fire hazard waitin' ta happen."

"Yeah ...thanks," Noah replied dryly, limping back to the drivers side door.

"Yah, an' easy on my damn gears, don't need ya burnin' out my clutch," Daryl barked at him, leading Beth back to the minivan and helping her with the seat belt. "Stay behind me and be careful," he said, closing the door and leaning in the window. "We still gotta take down tha lodge signs on tha way back."

Beth nodded her understanding, turning the key in the ignition, she leaned over and gave Daryl a quick peck on the lips. "You're a good man Mr. Dixon," she said with a smile, nodding her head in Noah's direction. "Maybe one day I won't have to remind you anymore."

For reasons he couldn't even begin to explain, Daryl suddenly felt very shy, and pushed away from the van quickly before Beth could see the blush creep up into his cheeks. He jumped on the bike, anxious to get back to the lodge, and make sure everyone was alright.

With the roar of the motorcycle coming to life, Daryl led the caravan out of the development and back on the open road, stopping three times on the way up the mountain to take down the lodge signs. Beth had said he was a good man, and it wasn't the first time she'd said it, but it was the first time he had actually felt deserving of her praises. Bringing Noah back with them, allowing himself to be open to the possibility of good people ...it felt ...well, good. Noah would not replace Bob, and while Daryl couldn't help feeling responsible, and he probably always would ...maybe he had saved Noah's life today, too.

As he turned up the stone road leading up to the lodge, he felt a wave of hope wash over him. And couldn't wait to take a hot shower.

 


	21. Morning Sex Is For Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl comes to terms with his feelings for Beth and struggles with how to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to last Sunday's Daryl heavy ep. and the influence of "arm porn" - have a little Bethyl fluff. ;)
> 
> Enjoy! ~ Lis

Warding away the early morning chill, Daryl snuggled deeper under the covers, feeling the absence of the warmth that he craved. He rolled over, reaching for Beth and found only the empty space she'd occupied earlier. Forcing his eyes open against the bright morning sun streaming through window, Daryl threw his arm over his head and groaned, blinking rapidly, allowing the world to come back into focus. From the adjoining bathroom, he could hear Beth's sweet humming over the spray of the shower, and he smiled. Having her here with him, in his arms all night ...that was everything. Stretching and pulling himself up into a sitting position, he was greeted by the dumb dog, wagging its tail furiously from the bottom of the bed. The lodge was still quiet beyond his bedroom door.

"Mornin' dumb do- ...Willie," Daryl corrected himself. The dog stretched, in reply, it's long tongue hanging out of its mouth, as usual. "Yer still a dumb dog," Daryl informed him, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, regretting it the minute his feet touched the cold wood floors.

The fire had withered away to nothing in the wee morning hours, leaving a dampness hanging in the air of the room. Fall was upon them. Winter was coming. Throwing his arms up over his head, he stretched again, the blanket concealing his nakedness slipping, as he drug himself up to his full height and stood directly in the rays of the rising sun streaking through the window pane.

Making a mental note that the windows needed to be boarded  _today_ , he crept to the pile of garbage bags In the far corner of his room, rubbing his hand against the light spray of hair on his belly. Beth, still being secretive about some of their contents, had insisted they be brought here last night, taking on the task to sort through them and distribute the items they'd accrued on yesterday's run. It made sense since he had the biggest room on the lower level, and no one who had an intelligent thought in their head would come poking around in Daryl Dixon's room.

Rustling through the bags at the top of the stack, he tore one open and began to rifle through the contents, then tied it closed when he didn't find what he was looking for, and moved to another. Three bags in, his searching hands found their mark, and with a satisfied smile, he quickly hung it in the closet, and shut the door. Daryl bent to quick throw another log on the fire, wanting the room to be warm for Beth when she dove into her task of unpacking the bags later, and stoked the dying embers underneath it, finally satisfied when they began heating the log and a small flame ensued.

"Tha hell ya lookin' at," he spat at the dog as he walked by the bed, then checking to make sure his bedroom door was locked, made his way into the bathroom.

The steam hit him in the face as soon as he opened the door, wrapping around his chilled body like a warm misty cloak and leaving a fine sheen of moisture on his naked flesh. Hot water. It was one of the few luxuries from the forgotten world that he actually missed.

He and Rick had spent the better part of an hour filling the generator yesterday as they discussed the presence of Noah. Then pushing through a maze of spiderwebs and God knows what other things he didn't even want to think about, in the tiny crawl space under the lodge that housed the water heater, to reignite the pilot light. With Noah's help, they now had enough fuel to last two months at least, three if they used it sparingly, so they had agreed that they would only use it to power the well pump and the stove for the time being. The water heater was powered by gas, and who knew how long that would last, but Daryl planned to take full advantage of it.

Peeling the shower curtain back gently, he lifted one foot into the tub, then the other, climbing in behind Beth. Bent over with one of her shapely legs propped on the rim of the tub, she was awkwardly sliding a disposable razor against it, her injured arm tucked protectively against her, she hadn't even noticed him. Patiently, he watched, not wanting to startle her, and waited for her to finish while he admired her backside, his body already responding to her nearness. Her humming ceased as she planted her foot back on the tub floor and straightened, backing into the hot spray of water and bumped into Daryl, the evidence of his arousal poking her in the lower back.

"Mornin' Mr. Dixon," she chirped, leaning into his embrace as he wrapped his well toned arms around her tiny waist, drawing her closer to the hard wall of his chest, being mindful of her injured arm.

"Greene," he greeted her with a nod, leaning forward over her shoulder to place a chaste kiss on her wet cheek. "Thought ya could use a hand washin' up," he grinned, reaching one hand for the bottle of her signature strawberry scented shampoo. "Or two," he finished, with a mischievous smirk.

"You're too kind," she teased him, with a soft laugh, leaning her head back onto his broad shoulder, anticipating his helping hands. "But you better hurry so I can slip back to my room before everyone starts wakin'," she warned him.

Holding his palm flat out in front of her, he squeezed a drop of the strawberry scented goodness into his hand, then replaced the bottle and rubbed his hands together vigorously to create a good lather. Turning them inward, he placed them on her flat tummy, smoothing them in a circular motion as he brushed them upwards, painting soapy designs on her slippery wet skin. His calloused palms moved higher, brushing the undersides of her breasts, and then careful not to hurt her, he gently lifted her arm, leaving a soapy lather in his wake as he washed her upper body, intentionally avoiding her more sensitive private areas and enjoying the soft mewling sounds she made deep in her throat as he stroked her soft pliant body into arousal.

Saving the best for last, he brushed one arm lightly against her breasts, cupping one, his thumb flicking against one of her nipples, as his other hand, palm flat and fingers spread, snaked its way down her belly. Beth leaned forward into his hand and Daryl knew she wanted him to touch her there. He just couldn't resist teasing her though, dragging his hand back up, but only for a moment.

"This what ya want?" His raspy voice whispered against her neck, as he slid his soapy fingers down into the patch of curls between her thighs, slipping his index finger between her folds.

Beth moaned, and moved her hips at his hand in response, rocking her lower body against his soapy hand, enjoying the sensations spilling out through her nerve endings, making her body tingle. After a few minutes, they proved to be too great, as her legs grew shaky and she clutched the wall with her good hand to keep herself from buckling at the knees.

Daryl steadied her, abruptly removing his hands and nudged her under the water to rinse off. "Glad I could be of assistance," he mumbled, biting back a laugh, knowing that if Beth would be facing him, her eyes would be shooting daggers his way.

When she had rinsed the suds completely from her body, Daryl switched places with her, dipping his head under the stream of hot water and closing his eyes with a content sigh as it flowed down around him. He heard the snap of the shampoo bottle again and opened his eyes to see Beth lathering her hands, her injured arm still pulled tight against her side. Lifting her good arm, she placed her small hand on his chest, moving it in a vertical motion up and down the expanse of his broad chest and stomach.

Daryl watched her wash him, his emotions a mixture of awe and tenderness and very obvious arousal. He loved to look at her, loved the shy innocence she displayed, even in the midst of passion. The way she kept her eyes downcast and the way she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth when she was contemplating how to turn him on, when truthfully, just being in her orbit did that all on its own.

Placing his large hand over her very small one, he pushed it downwards, guiding her to his hardness, gasping when she wrapped her fingers around the length of him and with a flick of her dainty wrist, began stroking. Daryl groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as Beth continued her sweet assault on his senses, reveling in her own newfound sexual prowess.

"Easy sweetheart," he said, his voice a husky growl, as he halted her movements and pulled her in close for a kiss, wrapping his arms around her so he could rub down the length of her back, his large hands spanning her tiny waist.

Taking the hand of her good arm in his, he wove it up around his neck, instructing her to hold on, then hooking his other hand up under her knee, Daryl pressed her back against the shower wall and entered her in one swift movement, sending a deep moan spilling out of Beth's mouth.

He held her pinned there against the shower wall, his hips moving in a frenzy against hers, Beth's face buried into his shoulder masking her shrieks of building pleasure. When her muscles began to clench and constrict around him and Daryl was sure she was cresting that wave, he rode it with her, then held her in his arms until their breathing slowed and their heart rates returned to normal.

Raising her eyes up to meet his, her fist still in his hair, Beth placed a kiss to the side of his jaw, nipping his skin lightly with her teeth, and Daryl grunted, feeling his arousal beginning anew. Would he ever get enough of her?

"Best keep that sweet lil' mouth to yerself girl, or yer gonna get me in trouble. Got work ta do ta'day," he grumbled, placing a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering.

"I sure will try, Mr. Dixon." Beth nodded, with the most serious face she could muster, a playful gleam in her eyes.

Daryl turned the water off and pushed the shower curtain open, reaching one of his long arms out to grab the two white fluffy towels hanging on the towel rack. He draped one on Beth's shoulders before quickly toweling off and securing it around his lean waist as he stepped out onto the fluffy rug at the base of the tub.

Taking her hand to assist her in climbing out, Daryl surprised her, hooking his arm up under her knees and carrying Beth bridal style out of the bathroom, gently laying her on the center of the bed like she was a porcelain doll, fragile and delicate. It was an illusion, a farce. Daryl knew Beth was a tough little cookie underneath all that softness, the source of her strength caged deep within her breast, beating against the palm of his hand. Her heart.

She alone had possessed the strength to hold him up when the world came crashing down around him, she alone the only one to not only crack the hard exterior surrounding his own heart, but shatter it into a million God damned pieces. A wall that he had spent so long building, disappointing brick by disappointing brick. It shook his perspective, shook him straight to his soul.

Yesterday she had told him that she loved him, yet he could not summon the courage to say it back, although he yearned to. No matter how hard he tried to force it down, that small part inside deeming him unworthy still lingered, rising back up unexpectedly like bile, and he hated himself for it. Hated that he sometimes still felt suspended in time, perpetually eleven years old, unwanted and abused, seeing the worlds ugliness far too soon in life. Grown up before his time, not because he wanted to, but because he had to, and then cursed himself for being the dumb emotionally stunted piece of shit that he was. But no, he couldn't tell her yet, he wasn't ready and Beth damn sure deserved no less.

"So serious," Beth frowned up at him, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes with her fingertips. "Are you okay, Daryl?"

Daryl shrugged, straightening his knees and lowering himself down onto the bed beside her. "Ain't never been better," he replied with complete honesty.

Gliding her hand down the line of his jaw, Beth gently drug her thumb across the faded remnants of his bruise. "I think you need a date with a razor, Mr. Dixon."

"Nah," Daryl replied, rolling over onto his back, draping his arm over his face.

Rustling outside the bedroom door alerted them the household was starting to stir and Daryl couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment, knowing he'd stay here with her in this bed all damn day if he could, if no one would be the wiser. He'd slept better last night than he'd ever had in the last thirty six years of his miserable existence. The dreams that usually plagued him never came, as if holding Beth in his arms kept all his bad thoughts at bay. He wanted her to stay. With him. In his room. Permanently.

Summoning the last remaining strands of his courage, Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, leaving his arm over his eyes, as if to serve as some fake protective force field to hide the fear he knew was swimming in their depths. Fear of unworthiness, fear of rejection. "Beth?"

"Yes Daryl?" She answered back in her sweet sing-song kind of way.

"Will ya ...I mean ..." Daryl sighed, struggling with his words. He tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly dry. "Most of yer stuffs already here an' ..."

Beth carefully lifted herself up on her elbow, reaching for Daryl's arm and tugged it away from his face so she could look at him. "You want me to stay?" She asked. Knowing this was a huge step for Daryl, knowing this meant the group was bound to catch on, those who hadn't already, anyway.

With her blue eyes beaming down on him, Daryl felt entranced, captivated by her innocent beauty, her hair a tangled blonde mess, her skin still flushed and wet from their lovemaking in the shower. Yes! he screamed on the inside, but all he could manage was a nod.

"Okay Daryl," Beth nodded back, shaking her head slowly. "I'll stay," she answered, placing a kiss to the scruff of fur on his chest. "Now about that shave?" She laughed.

"Ain't no damn negotiations, girl," Daryl growled, rolling her underneath him, and smothering her giggles with his mouth, he kissed her passionately. To say that he was elated was an understatement.

They both had a busy day ahead of them, but Daryl figured the world could wait just a little longer as he tugged the towel open, removing the barrier that separated them and made love to Beth Greene one more time.

 


	22. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the group finishes fortifying the lodge for the winter, they run into an unexpected complication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tuning in again guys. Just a heads up that with the holiday, I will be having a busy week ahead of me, so there might not be another update until next week. Maybe ... Maybe I will get so wrapped up in my writing, I'll knock out the next three chapters in a day ...who knows. ;) ~ Lis

Shoulders squared, legs apart, feet firmly planted on the ground, Daryl swung the axe with all his might, bringing it down on his mark and effectively slicing the wood in two. There was much to do to prep for the upcoming winter. Once the snow started falling, who knows how long they'd be holed up indoors. It was better to be prepared. His first order of business was to split this firewood and transfer it to the front porch. This would serve two purposes, keeping the wood dry and covered from the elements, while providing cover if things ever got ugly. Daryl hoped it would never be the latter.

From his vantage point between the lodge and the barn, he could hear Beth and Carol, busy in the kitchen, scrambling up the few meager eggs that Carl had managed to collect from the chickens earlier this morning, and the smell that was wafting from the window was making Daryl's stomach growl something fierce. Things were so crazy yesterday, between the run, the generator and convincing everyone that he'd made the right call in bringing Noah back with them, Daryl couldn't even remember if he had eaten.

So far, Noah seemed to be acclimating well to the group, throwing in and pulling his weight, helping wherever he could, despite the handicap of his leg. Seeing Daryl chopping wood, he had volunteered, along with Carl, to help lug the firewood around to the front of the lodge, when Rick came sauntering out of the barn.

"Well, the roofs almost done," he said, rubbing his hand against the stubble of his beard. "With any luck, we'll have it done today and then we can start utilizing the loft as a second watch point. We'll leave the pickup truck in there," he pointed at the barn, "and park the Cavalier upfront under the tree, that way there's a vehicle near our people at all times. Just in case ..."

Rick let his words trail off. There was no reason for him to finish the obvious thought that lingered in the back of everyone's mind. Thus far, their new home appeared to be safe, but in this harsh new world, appearances were usually deceiving.

Daryl dropped the axe, propping it against the log he was splitting the wood on, and pulled his gloves off. "Ya guys got some wood scraps back there? I wanna board up them windows ta'day. I'd like ta do inside an' out."

"I'm sure we can manage to spare something," Rick nodded, waiting for Noah and Carl to fill their arms with their next haul and walk out of earshot before continuing. "I take it you made your decision?" His face was serious, as his tried to mask the amusement in his eyes. Incidentally, he had stumbled upon Daryl sending Beth off with a tender kiss this morning as she left his bedroom.

"Yah," Daryl mumbled, feeling sort of sheepish. If it was anyone but Rick who'd asked, he'd of told them to mind their own damn business.

Thankfully, Rick left it at that, turning the conversation back to more pressing matters. He nodded his head towards Sasha who was sitting alone a few feet away from the crude constructed cross that marked Bob's grave, sharpening large sticks into spikes. "She still won't talk ta anyone. Not even Ty."

"S'only been three days, Rick," Daryl said. "She'll come 'round when she's ready." He glanced over at Sasha, shoulders hunched and swiping at her tears as she worked on the task that was assigned to her, and felt a sharp pain in his chest, wishing he knew how to help. But grief was a personal thing and everyone handled it in their own way. Who were any of them to tell Sasha how to mourn? And he was probably the last person she wanted to hear anything from.

"I know, I know," Rick replied, hands on his hips and bobbing his head in agreement. "Jus' worried is all."

"Rick!" Maggie yelled, running out of the barn and waving her hands over her head to get his attention.

Grabbing up his crossbow, Daryl took off running after Rick in the direction of the barn, his heart dropping somewhere in his stomach. But Maggie wasn't distraught at all, quite the opposite, in fact.

"Look what I found," she cried, her bright blue eyes, so like Beth's, lit up with child-like excitement. Grabbing at Rick's arm, she drug them over to a small crate that was half buried in the hay then bent to scoop up a handful of packets, pushing them into Rick's open hands, barely able to contain her excitement, she blurted out, "Seeds!"

Rick sifted through the packets, finding a variety of vegetables and fruits. Strawberries, watermelon, carrots, peas ...you name it, it was there. "I didn't see a plot?"

"Maybe it was overgrown?" Daryl suggested.

"Who cares!" Maggie interrupted them, still jumping for joy. "We've got food!"

No one mentioned the fact that by the time it would come to plant them, they'd be well on their way to Washington. Instead, Rick instructed her to move the crate to the safety of the lodge, as Daryl headed back to splitting firewood, only to be interrupted again, this time by Tara calling everyone in to eat. At this point, Daryl was sure his stomach was eating itself, so he didn't complain, and followed her back inside.

Preferring to stand, Daryl accepted the plate of food that was passed his way, and leaned back against the wall, his eyes roaming around the dining tables at his makeshift family all gathered to eat. Everyone was present, even the dumb dog, and Sasha, although she sat apart from the others.

Forking a mouthful of scrambled eggs into his mouth, Daryl watched Lil' Asskicker push her eggs around the tray of her high chair. Occasionally a microscopic piece would find its way into her little mouth, her two tiny front bottom baby teeth chomping away at it furiously. Judith was fast approaching a year old, she deserved some stability and so did Carl.

Daryl still couldn't shake the thought that the D.C. trip wasn't anything but a damn pipe dream and that their best bet is, and always was to just hunker down and try to make a life somewhere. He hadn't realized how truly road weary he was until they had lost the prison. Spending his whole life drifting, usually with Merle if he wasn't locked up, it took him thirty six years to realize that all he ever really wanted was a stable place to call home.

Those things that Beth had talked about that night on the porch at the moonshine shack, things Daryl had never really given much though to ... growing old, Glenn and Maggie having a baby, birthday parties and picnics ...a life and a home. Daryl knew he wanted that with these people. And especially with Beth. He wanted it for her and he wanted it with her.

Without warning, Maggie shoved her chair away from the table and ran from the room, startling everyone, including Daryl whom she nearly plowed over as she ran past him, headed for the nearest washroom. The questioning stares lingered after her, then settled on Glenn.

"Uhh guys," he stammered nervously, "I think -"

"That Maggie must have caught a bug," Carol cut him off effectively, giving Beth a knowing look across the table that everyone missed, _except Daryl_. "I was feeling kind of queasy yesterday. Something must be going around," she finished, stabbing a piece of egg with her fork and putting it in her mouth, closing the subject.

As if on cue, Eugene began lecturing them on the importance of good hygiene and by the time he was finished, Maggie was all but forgotten. Looking for an out, Daryl grabbed Rick's attention, inquiring about the boards he mentioned earlier, while quickly shoveling the rest of his own eggs down, eager to get back to work and get done. The quicker he accomplished his goals, the safer their haven, and then maybe he could shake this nagging feeling he'd been having since they'd arrived.

With everyone finished and scattering back to what they were doing, Daryl followed Rick back to the barn, his eyes meeting Beth's, sharing a knowing look as he passed her in the kitchen. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine as he anticipated another evening alone with her. As they passed Michonne in the yard, Rick gave her a very similar look, taking Daryl aback. He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. It wasn't his any of his business and perhaps he was mistaken.

Once they were in the barn, Rick directed him to a stack of lumber laying behind the ladder to the loft, and putting his gloves back on, Daryl sifted through the pile, grabbing what he needed. Utilizing the wheelbarrow that was propped against the workbench in the corner, Daryl stuffed it full and reaching for one of the hammers hanging from a nail above the bench, he looped it through his belt and dumped a couple of handfuls of nails in the pocket of his leather vest. Doing his best to balance the heavy load in the wheelbarrow, he headed back towards the lodge. Unfortunately, he'd have to make a few trips, but this would give him a good start.

He began on the inside, boarding up all the windows to the halfway point, working his way through the bottom level of the lodge, returning to the barn to replenish what he needed twice before starting on the outside. The sun was at its highest point in the sky by the time he reached his own bedroom windows. Bending to sift through the wheelbarrow for the pieces he needed, his ears perked up at the sound of the voices talking in his room beyond the windows.

Beth and Maggie had just begun the task of emptying the bags from their run when he'd boarded up the windows on the inside earlier, and apparently they were still at it. Daryl was by no means an eavesdropper, it wasn't his fault he could hear them clearly, he told himself, as he continued along with his task.

"There should be some maternity clothing in one of those two bags," Beth said. "There wasn't much, but I grabbed what was there."

"You didn't tell Daryl, did you?" Maggie asked.

"No," Beth answered. "I packed them on my own. Noah helped to pack the baby stuff. It's mostly gender neutral, and I found all those baby girl clothing in that station wagon back on the road last week, so just take it, Judy's good. Hopefully we can find more formula somewhere ...we still have plenty of time." The sound of rustling garbage bags, and then she continued, "The other Pack N Play can stay in here for now, I'll use it for Judith when Rick's on watch so we don't have to drag hers back and forth."

"Here?" Maggie asked. "Are you staying here with Daryl now?"

"Yes," Beth answered. "Don't look at me like that, Maggie. He makes me happy, and nowadays we gotta grab happiness where we can. Might not have been the ideal relationship I had in mind, but then again, neither is yours."

"That may be true, but Glenn is different. He's not ..." Maggie let her voice trail off.

"Older?" Beth finished for her. "That doesn't matter to me one bit, and if it doesn't matter to him or I, it shouldn't matter to anyone else. Even my nosey, judgmental big sister."

"Don't be like that, Doodlebug. I worry about you, and I'd like to remind you as your nosey judgmental big sister, that's my job," Maggie replied, a hint of sarcasm in her thick southern drawl.

"I'm not a child anymore, Maggie. I've made my decision. I love him," Beth declared, passionately.

"And he feels the same?" Maggie asked.

"He asked me to stay here," Beth replied, indicating that was good enough for her for now.

"That doesn't mean he loves you, Bethy. Obviously ya'll aren't just canoodling and playin' Yahtzee in here at night," Maggie said harshly, then softened her tone as she continued. "I'm sorry. I just still can't wrap my brain around Daryl Dixon and my baby sister is all."

"He's a good man," Beth said adamantly.

"He is," Maggie agreed.

"And he'll tell me he loves me when he's ready," Beth announced, confident in her own words. "Now, that pile goes to Michonne and those books are for Eugene. I'll take these to Sasha's room."

The sound of rustling bags again, followed by footsteps on the woods floors and then silence.

Daryl blew out the breath he was holding in, it rushed out of his lungs in a whoosh. So Maggie was pregnant. He had suspected it with the spectacle at the breakfast table earlier, to be honest. Beth's secrecy about the personal things she needed on the run now made sense too. Daryl couldn't help but feel a little relieved. They hadn't exactly been practicing safe sex techniques either. Perhaps a pharmacy run was in order.

Not that he disliked the thought of Beth carrying his baby, in fact, it gave him a strange tingly feeling that he couldn't quite describe as bad. However, Daryl knew he was in no way ready for the complications that came along with fatherhood. Not ever having a good example to follow, he doubted he'd ever really be good at it anyway, and that was a whole new level of failure he wasn't ready to add to his growing list. Maybe never.

Wood in hand, he laid a plank flat against the window and hammered the boards into place, shaking his head to dislodge his unpleasant thoughts.

"Need a hand?" Noah asked, limping around the side of the lodge, stopping at the wheelbarrow.

"Jus' got these last couple'a windows," Daryl answered, stepping back from lodge and pointing to the two dinning room windows, and his remaining bedroom window.

Noah reached into the wheelbarrow and grabbed two more planks, heading towards the bedroom window. Daryl watched him, noticing his limp seemed more pronounced today.

"Weather affects it," Noah offered, noticing Daryl's apparent interest. "The colder it gets, the stiffer I get."

"What happened?" Daryl asked, his eyes traveling down the length of his leg and then falling to the disturbance in the grass by Noah's foot. "Wait!" Daryl barked, "Don't move!"

Noah froze in place, as Daryl crept up to where he was standing, studying the ground below. A pronounced boot print was clearly visible in the small patch of mud directly below Daryl's bedroom window. "Go get Rick," he ordered him, with a wave of his hand.

Noah dropped the wood and did as Daryl said, limping full speed around the back of the lodge, as Daryl bent to inspect the imprint. If it was one of theirs from when they had first arrived, then all the rain would have washed it away, but this was fresh.

An eerie feeling washed over him, as Daryl vaguely remembered seeing a face in the window the first night Beth had spent with him, the night Bob had died. He had been exhausted and disoriented, half asleep and he swore that the face had bore an uncanny resemblance to Merle. Daryl had assumed he was just seeing things in his sleep confused state, wouldn't have been the first time he hallucinated his dearly departed big brother. But the presence of the shoe print indicated that was far from the case.

_Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

Cursing his stupidity, Daryl crouched lower, examining it from all angles. It was definitely fresh. Fresher than that night even, as the rain would have washed that away too. That meant someone had been here, maybe as recently as last night, watching ... His stomach began to churn and Daryl's breakfast threatened to come up at the thought of someone watching him make love to Beth, violating the private expression of their feelings. Looking upon Beth's naked form. _Looking at his woman._

Suddenly he was angry, standing up, his fists clenched at his sides, Daryl began checking the brush that bordered the woods by the side of the lodge, searching for the telltale signs of disturbance, wanting to track and kill whomever this intruder was. Broken tree and bush limbs, stomped dirt, anything ...but there was nothing.

"What's going on?" Rick asked, rounding the corner by the kitchen, he approached Daryl, his mouth set in a grim line. He knew something was wrong.

Daryl pointed to the boot print at their feet, feeling words just weren't necessary.

 


	23. The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tempers flare as the group decides what to do about the newest threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate). A (tad) shorter chapter today, but impactful nonetheless (in my opinion, anyway). Hope you enjoy it ...some Bethyl smut coming your way soon (blame it on the Daryl episode, I'm still high on arm porn). Love you all! ~ Lis

Packed into the dinning hall again, Daryl couldn't help but feel the tedious familiarity of the situation. Only this time, they weren't enjoying a family meal, they were coping with yet another harrowing situation. It was never ending. It was old. Daryl was tired. But above all, Daryl was pissed.

Making his way through the crowd, some sitting, most standing, Rick stood at the head of one of the tables, and unfurled the map he had went back to his room to retrieve.

"What the hell is going on?" Abe was the first to voice his annoyance, impatient to get back to whatever task he was drug from. He stood, feet apart, massive arms crossing over his massive chest, his normal intimidating stance.

"According to the brochure, we are here," Rick said calmly, placing his finger on the map. "Down the mountain, about twenty five minutes to the east, bordering the next town over is a gated community called Smokey Mountain Estates," again, he pointed his finger, indicating this destination on the map. "This is where Daryl and Beth found Noah. This will be our rendezvous point should anything go awry. I don't want us to ever be split without a way of reconnecting. Not again."

"Rick, what's going on?" Glenn asked, draping a supportive arm around Maggie's shoulder.

Rick drew in a deep breath, then leaned down, bracing his knuckles against the table, and let his eyes roam around the room from face to face. "Daryl found evidence that someone has been sneaking around the property."

"Evidence? What evidence?" Tara asked, her eyes growing wide with disbelief. "How? Someone has always been on watch."

"They've been sneaking up the side, where the woods going down the mountain flank us," Rick continued over the buzz of the room. "Far as we know, it's one person. Could just be a lonely wanderer lookin' for a safe place to stay, could'a been a scout for a group. Who knows."

"Based on what evidence?" Rosita asked, arms crossed similar to Abraham's.

"Boot print," Daryl called from his spot, propped against the back wall, hair hanging over his face.

"Well how do we know it wasn't one of ours?" Carol asked.

"Or a Walker?" Maggie added.

"Any of you peepin' in my room?" Daryl asked, not bothering to mask his sarcasm. "Didn't think so. An' a Walker, I would'a heard." He didn't mention the fact that he had seen the face. Only Rick knew that.

"So here's what we're gonna do," Rick continued. "Everyone needs to be extra cautious, and no one goes outside the fence alone and without alerting someone to where you're going. Apart from our regular watch points, we're gonna string some can alarms along the sides by the woods, and have someone do a perimeter sweep once an hour at night. We'll use the Walkies -"

"This is some kinda bullshit," Abe barked, cutting Rick off. "We should be on the way to D.C. instead of sittin' here jerkin' ourselves off, waitin' for a damn ambush!"

"Why don't you close yer mouth an' let him finish," Daryl growled from the back.

Abe's neck snapped back at the sound of Daryl's voice, "I wasn't talkin' to you, Deliverance," he spat sarcastically.

"Tha hell ya say ta me?" Daryl shot back, pushing himself away from the wall and taking an aggressive step forward. He had grown damn tired of soldier boys mouth.

Glenn stepped between them, bracing his palm flat against Daryl's chest. "Daryl, don't," he said softly.

From her seat beside Rick, Beth sought him out, her blues eyes locking with his from across the crowded room and Daryl felt instantly calmed. Shaking off Glenn's touch, he resumed his spot against the wall, in the hopes Rick could continue uninterrupted.

"So who's gonna do the sweep?" Tyrese asked, his low voice barely audible from the back of the room where he stood.

"Whoever's on watch," Rick answered, pushing himself away from the table and settling his hands comfortably on his hips, one resting on his python. "We stick with the pairs at each point. One person can alternate every hour and keep in contact with the others through the Walkies. There's no reason to panic," Rick continued. "I just want everyone to keep their eyes open, be careful."

"Hell with this," Abe spoke up again. "I say we pack anything we can fit and get back on the highway. We could be in Washington in three days."

"I can't stop you from going," Rick replied, still remaining calm despite the aggressive tone to Abraham's voice. "You wanna take one of the cars and some supplies, then go ahead, but we're stayin'. I wish you'd reconsider, though."

"I'm not in the business of sittin' around waitin' to take it up the ass. I got one mission, one motive and that's to cart his sorry carcass to Washington," Abe replied, jerking his thumb in Eugene's direction. "This situation smells funny and it's making my ass itchy. I think you're the one who should reconsider. Like you said, we're stronger together."

"We can vote," Rick suggested, "but I'm sure you already know what the outcome would be."

"Yeah," Abe replied, snorting. "Stupidity." Shaking his head in disbelief, he turned to Rosita. "Go grab your shit baby, looks like the mission is back on track."

"Uhhh, may I say something?" Eugene, who had been utterly silent from his place at the table finally spoke up.

"What?" Abe growled.

Eugene swallowed nervously, his eyes scanning the faces of the people surrounding him, except Abraham's whom he intentionally averted his gaze from. "I - I believe Rick is right. I still deduce this is the safest place for the winter, despite present circumstances."

"Why are you so damn eager to cool your heels?" Abraham asked, grabbing the back of Eugene's chair and jerking it around to face him effortlessly, as if it was weightless, skepticism in his eyes.

"J-just basic survival instincts," Eugene stammered, the fear in his voice evident. "Food, shelter, running hot water. The basic comforts of home. I've grown rather fond of Tara and I'd be loathe to leave her behind."

Tara laughed softly, breaking some of the tension, "You're so weird, Eugene."

"I'm aware that I'm an acquired taste," he replied with absolute seriousness.

Abraham released Eugene's chair, and blew out a heavy sigh, stretching back up to his full height. "Fine," he spat, turning his attention back to Rick and pointing a thick finger in his face, "If something happens, it's your ass."

Rick stood his ground, unmoved by Abraham's intimidation tactics, likely a technique picked up over time from being in law enforcement. They eyeballed each other coolly, as Daryl once again pushed away from the wall and stepped into the fray, prepared to have Rick's back if he needed him, but Rick raised his hand, halting him in his tracks, and Daryl clenched his fists in frustration.

Somehow Beth had moved closer without him noticing, she stood beside him now, the side of her hand brushing against his. A subtle gesture, barely there, but again, calming nonetheless. Without realizing what he was doing, without giving it any thought, Daryl slid the tip of his pinky finger down the side of her hand, then curling his little finger around hers, locked them into place. Bonded. Intimate.  _And yet exposed._  And it felt ... _good_. Right.

The atmosphere changed again, shifting from tension to something more tolerant, as Carol and Tara began bringing dishes out of the kitchen, setting up dinner. Everyone sitting down to the meal in relative silence. This time Daryl actually taking a seat beside Beth, with Maggie and Glenn sitting directly across from them, and Daryl swore he could feel the older Greene sisters' eyes burning a hole through him. Not with malice, but intense nonetheless, as if she was trying to see straight into his soul, carve out his intentions in a protective sort of way.

Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Daryl met her stare with honesty, absorbed it, allowing her access to whatever she felt she was looking for, instead of cringing away in fear. No one else seemed to notice as they shuffled through their meager dinner of Spam, boxed instant mashed potatoes and canned corn. _Except Beth._  Daryl suddenly realizing that she always seemed attuned to the feelings of those around her, like some damned sort of sixth sense or something. Light as a feather, he felt her hand on his thigh, hidden from view below the table. Just the slightest pressure, and in no way sexual, and in every way reassuring.

When everyone was finished, they scattered to their evening routine, battening down the hatches, so to speak, and Daryl sought the cool crisp mountain air outside as he pinched a cigarette between his teeth and struck a match, inhaling deeply. Somewhere stored in the barn was their chain link canned alarm system and he had every intention of stringing it up tonight, for all the good it would do against humans, but it was part of the plan, regardless.

Daryl exhaled as the front door swung open and Noah joined him on the porch, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his front pants pockets. He inhaled again, regarding him with weary eyes, and Daryl realized he liked this kid.

"Ya need sum'thin?" He asked, blowing his smoke out through his nose.

"Not really," Noah shrugged, rolling just one shoulder. "Just thought I should see if you needed some help finishing the windows, and stringing up whatever Rick was talking about."

"C'mon," Daryl replied, sucking in two more puffs of his cigarette before flicking it into the grass below.

He started down the porch steps, leaving a trail of smoke for Noah to follow as he exhaled and headed towards the barn, trying to keep his pace slower to accommodate Noah's limp. Daylight was burning fast and Daryl craved the solace of his room, and the sanctuary of Beth's arms. Time really wasn't relevant in their world anymore, but it seemed roughly an hour later, they had the windows finished and the cans halfway strung.

"So you and Beth, huh?" Noah asked, seemingly casual, breaking the silence.

Daryl stiffened, if only the slightest bit as he looped himself around the next tree, stepping over the rope, as he continued on. "Yah," he grunted his reply, curious of the nature of Noah's question. "Me an' Beth."

"How long?" He asked next.

"Long enough," Daryl mumbled back, growing uncomfortable with the turn their conversation was taking. Maybe Noah just hadn't realized yet that Daryl was a private person and didn't really do small talk, so he kept his cool.

"She sure is pretty," Noah continued, still casually.

An unexpected twinge of possessiveness shot through him, the little green-eyed monster wrapping its tentacles around and squeezing tight. Jealousy, thick and sticky and Daryl was dripping with it.

"Better watch yer mouth sunshine," he growled, turning to face Noah. Daryl kept his tone light, playful even, but the look in his eyes said something else entirely.

Noah didn't say much else about Beth after that. When they were finished, Daryl slapped him on the back and thanked him for his help, lest he think there were any hard feelings. Noah smiled, nodded, bid him goodnight and made his way back across the yard and to the lodge.

The sun had just slipped below the horizon, bringing with it the biting cold of nights on a mountain top, several degrees cooler than down in the valley below. Carol and Michonne were on watch again, Carol already up in the tree skiff, ahead of schedule as usual. She nodded at Daryl as he quietly passed her and plopped down on the porch stairs, his bow aside of him, to partake in a final cigarette break before boarding the door.

The door swung open and the planks of the porch groaned as Michonne passed by him.

"Night Archer."

"Night Samurai," he called back after her, lighting his cigarette and tossing the match into the grass.

The porch boards groaned again as Rick took a seat on the steps beside Daryl.

"Thank you for earlier," Rick said, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Ain't even necessary," Daryl replied, shaking his head. "I always got yer back."

"Yeah, I know." Rick sighed, exhaling long and hard. "Think I made the right call?"

Daryl was silent for a moment, taking a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke permeate his lungs, help clear his head. Sometimes he wondered if there was any such thing as a  _right_  call anymore. "Yah, I do," he said finally, exhaling. "Think Abe needs a lesson in manners, too."

"He's got a big mouth and a hot temper, but he ain't a bad guy," Rick's lips turned up in a smile as he regarded Daryl with humor dancing in his eyes. "Reminds me of someone else I know," he finished, clasping Daryl on the shoulder.

"Nah," Daryl answered with smirk, taking another drag of his cigarette then flicking it into the grass below, "Glenn ain't like that no more."

Rick laughed, rich and heartily, slapping Daryl on the shoulder, as he stretched his legs. "I'm gonna stay out here for a few more minutes. I'll board the door."

Daryl nodded, standing up and reaching for his crossbow, he bid Rick a final goodnight and climbed the porch stairs, heading back into the lodge. The common room was quiet, just Carl laying in front of the fireplace reading that same damn comic book for the thousandth time. Poor kid ...Daryl would have to try and find him some new reading material on the next run, he decided, as he continued down to corridor to his room.  _His and Beth's room._

The door was slightly ajar, soft candlelight spilled out into the dark hallway, like a beacon, beckoning Daryl forward. He stopped in the doorway, leaning his weary body against the door frame, remaining quiet so he could watch her, as he did often now.

Beth was sitting at the small writing desk across from the bed, hair piled high in a messy bun atop her head, furiously writing in what Daryl recognized with a satisfied smile, as the journal he had given her. She was concentrating, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, as her pen scrawled out all of her deepest secrets, and Daryl was mildly curious if he was in there somewhere.

One long graceful leg tucked up against her chest, seemingly cradled her injured arm, she went on writing, oblivious to his presence. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts, that dwarfed her in an unbelievably appealing way, and a pair of white men's socks pulled up to her knees, which he also assumed were his.

Standing there, watching her from the doorway, Daryl felt a tightening in his chest, and an overwhelming feeling to reach out and touch Beth, to make sure she was real. He knew, deep down in the dark recesses of his brain, where he refused to go, that he didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her. And selfishly, he didn't care. Somewhere in the last few days Daryl knew he had crossed the line between wanting her, to actually  _needing_ her ...craving the light she exuded, the beautiful light that banished all the darkness that had plagued him his entire life.

The light that was Beth Greene.

 


	24. Feral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl finds an amusing way to deal with his jealousy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to kick off tonight's MSF (and likely the lack of Daryl), a little Bethyl smut (as promised). A much shorter chapter, but I'm sure ya'll won't mind one little bit. ;) Thanks for tuning in, loves! ~ Lis

Stepping inside the room, Daryl quietly closed and locked the door behind him, propping his crossbow in its place beside the bedroom door. The sound of the lock clicking into place alerting Beth to his presence. She looked up at him, her head cocked to one side and regarded him with a smile, genuine warmth swimming in the deep blue depths of her eyes.

Wordlessly, Daryl made his way to her, coming to stand behind Beth's chair, and placed his hands on her shoulders, lightly kneading the tension away.

"How's yer arm?" He asked, noticing she hadn't worn the sling he'd made her since yesterday.

"Mmmm feels good," Beth murmured, leaning into his touch, obviously not paying much attention to what he was saying.

"Whatcha writin'?" He asked, ceasing his ministrations.

Beth laid the pen down and flipped her journal closed. "Stuff. Things," she mumbled, tilting her head back to look at him. "Everything alright out there?"

Daryl nodded, reaching for her injured arm and gently extending it. "Loosenin' up again?" He asked, lowering her arm and bending at the waist to kiss her cheek, his lips purposely lingering.

"Almost as loose as Maggie's lips," Beth answered in her sweet sing-song way, placing her hand against the stubble on Daryl's cheek.

"She ain't said nuthin' ta me," Daryl answered, leaning his face into her hand, enjoying the warmth of her touch. He had no intentions of telling her he'd overheard their exchange earlier. Wasn't any reason to.

"I thought she was exercising a demon from you at dinner," Beth teased, with a chuckle. Twisting her face around to look at him again, her mouth turning down into a frown, she continued, "I'm sorry, Daryl. She'll come around eventually."

Daryl shrugged, "Don't matter."

"It does matter," Beth replied, her face growing serious, her brows drawing together and her blue eyes narrowing. "Your feelings always matter to me."

Daryl scraped his stubby cheek against her smooth one, his lips settling against her throat, and drug his mouth against her jawline, his teeth nipping against the delicate flesh behind her ear, he whispered in his raspy voice, "Want to know what I'm feelin' now?"

It was a rhetorical question. Before she could answer, he hooked his hands under her arms, gently hauling her to her feet and nudging the chair to the side with his boot, pulled her body tight against his, pressing sloppy kisses to her neck as his arms circled around her. He could feel his blood turning to liquid fire in his veins, his desire running hot, as he pressed his growing erection against the small of her back.

Beth moaned, ever receptive to his touch. "Tell me," she replied, her voice a breathy whisper, as her own desire grew, coiling around her.

Spinning her around to face him, Daryl kissed her soundly, running his hands up and down the length of her back, as she pushed his leather vest from his shoulders and began pulling at the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged out of it impatiently, wanting to feel her hands on his bare skin, mindful to kick it away from the fireplace and backed her up against the side of the desk.

"I'd rather show you," he murmured against her lips, breaking contact for just a moment to swipe her journal and whatever other nonsense that was cluttering the desk, to the floor below.

Beth opened her mouth to protest, but Daryl effectively silenced her with another kiss, smothering her words as his tongue dominated her mouth, seeking, possessing, curling around hers in a passionate prelude of what was to come. She melted against him as he pushed his hand down between them, fumbling with the buckle of his belt, his knuckles inadvertently brushing against the apex of her thighs, eliciting another soft moan from Beth.

Finally freeing himself from his cumbersome pants, he grabbed Beth's hips, setting her on the desk and pressed her down with the weight of his body, pinning her arms above her head. Leaning over her, his mouth found her throat once more, lightly grazing his teeth against her delicate skin, as she writhed beneath him, her face twisted in pleasure. He moved his head lower, using the tip of his tongue to run along the length of her collarbone, and dipping between the valley of her breasts. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his hungry mouth, wanting to be devoured, as he bit her nipples through the fabric of the flannel shirt, teasing her.

Daryl ground his hips against hers in a circular motion, her thin panties the only barrier between them, and groaned, feeling her heat radiating through them. Keeping both her small hands pinned in just one of his larger ones, he drug his other hand down her body, feeling Beth again, arch her body up to meet him as he tugged her panties roughly to the side, not bothering to remove them. She was wet and ready for him and suddenly the need to possess her was overwhelming and animalistic. It consumed Daryl, banishing all logical thought from his head, as he thrust deep inside of her, his entire body shuddering in response.

Beth screamed in pleasure, her legs locking behind Daryl's hips, as he regained his composure and slowed his pace, pulling out and then pushing back in with painstakingly aching slowness, losing himself in her exquisite soft, wet heat. Moving his hips in slow circles, Beth whimpered still pinned beneath him as Daryl stared into her eyes, whispering in a husky voice how sexy she was and how good it felt to be buried deep within her. His free hand squeezed her breast, teasing her nipple beneath his palm as he continued his slow, torturous lovemaking.

"Ya wanna touch me?" Daryl moaned, feeling her trying to tug her hands free from his grasp.

She nodded in response, gazing up at him, her beautiful blue eyes hazy with desire, her soft lips parted, another moan pushing past them. Daryl released her breast and shoved his hand between her legs, finding the core of her femininity and flicking his thumb against it through the thin film of her panties, her hips bucking at him in response.

"Tell me," he groaned, feeling her insides tightening against the length of his shaft, threatening to send him over the edge.

"Yes," Beth panted, licking her lips. "Yes, I want to touch you Daryl. Please ..."

With a pained cry, Daryl released her imprisoned wrists, as her arms wove their way around his neck, threading up into his hair. Stilling his hips, he withdrew from her, stepping back, his erection slick with her juices, as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her panties, jerking them down her thighs and tossing them to the floor.

She reached for him, her body humming and crying out from the loss of sensation, unfulfilled. Daryl came to her, scooping her up into his embrace, her arms and legs twining around him again, as he walked the short distance to the bed and laid her down. Beth settled into the mattress and spread her legs in a wanton invitation, need still pulsing through her, a need only Daryl could satiate.

Placing one knee on the bed, Daryl pushed her thighs back together, leaving a puzzled look on her face as he rolled Beth over on her stomach, his forearm coming up under her tummy to bring her up on her knees, her backside facing him. He kneeled on the bed behind her, grasping her hips firmly in his hands and eased himself back inside of her slowly, wanting to be gentle in this new position his was introducing her to, gasping at the sensation of being deeper inside of her than ever before.

Beth let out a feral growl, her body trembling beneath him, wracked with new sensations, her hips pushing back against him of their own accord. Unable to stop himself, Daryl drove into her harder, his shaft stretching and filling her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her behind, holding her steady as he thrust himself into her fully and still wanting to be deeper. He took her hard, his usual tenderness forgotten, unable to comprehend this biting desire to dominate her completely. He would make it up to her later, love her sweetly, but for now he just wanted to possess her, lay his claim and erase any inkling of any man she may have ever thought about. She was his.  _His_  woman. And he was hers.

Beth clutched the bed sheets, her yielding softness hugging him, squeezing him tighter with every thrust of mind blowing pleasure, as she approached that precipice, teetering on the edge of her orgasm. Her breathing labored, panting like Daryl, only incoherent grunts escaping her lips as she threw back her head and screamed her release, her body beckoning Daryl to join her in sweet abandon. His hips moving furiously, pounding against the smooth skin of her bottom Daryl groaned, white light exploding behind his eyelids as he released his seed deep within her, and flopped down onto the mattress, pulling her into his arms.

They laid there, sweaty and hearts pounding, the scent of sex heavy and lingering in the air around them.

"I didn't hurt ya, did I?" Daryl asked, suddenly remembering her injured arm and how less than delicate he'd been with her.

Still breathless, all Beth could manage was to shake her head no, as Daryl pushed her hair, now loose and spilling around them, out of her face to press a tender kiss to her brow. Gently detaching himself, he sat up to remove his forgotten boots and pants, still hanging around his ankles like a horny teenager as Beth watched him from the bed. When he was fully naked, he placed another log on the fire and then plopped down beside her, his fingers moving to the buttons of his flannel shirt she was still wearing.

"Ya sure I didn't hurt ya?" He asked again, as he pushed the shirt open, exposing her perky little breasts, her nipples instantly hardening under the intense heat of his stare. Already he was beginning to grow hard again, never seeming to get his fill of her.

"I never felt anything like that before, but hurt is not the word I'd use to describe it," Beth said, keeping her eyes downcast, suddenly shy, despite her brazenness during their lovemaking.

"Ain't gotta be shy, girl," Daryl said. "Tell me what ya want, show me what feels good. Makin' ya feel good makes me feel good." He nodded his head towards his growing erection, for confirmation.

"I like when you kiss me here," Beth replied, running her finger along her bottom lip.

Daryl leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in response.

"And here," Beth continued, laying her hand against her neck, sighing softly as Daryl bent again, this time to kiss the hollow of her throat.

"And here," she pointed to one erect nipple, moaning as Daryl sucked it into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

"And ..." Beth let her words trail off, as she snaked her hand down her belly and to the soft patch of golden curls at the vee of her thighs. "Here," she finished, touching herself, becoming more bold as desire began building in her once more.

His eyes never leaving hers, Daryl kissed his way down the length of her body, the words "I love you" on the tip of his tongue, as he buried it between her soft thighs.

 


	25. Relationships and Other Matters of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is on high alert over the intruder. While on night watch, he and Carol have some words regarding their fragile friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies ...sorry for the delay in publishing this week. One of my "editors" has been M.I.A. with work, and I just didn't want to wait any longer, so I hope this chapter is okay. Hope that everyone had a great Thanksgiving! xoxo~ Lis

For three nights, Daryl sat up in the tree overlooking his bedroom window. Perched high, hidden in the leaves that were now beginning to change colors and fall. For three nights he watched and waited, and for three nights he saw and heard absolutely nothing. Desperately, he wanted to believe it was a fluke, and maybe it was, but Daryl doubted it.

The barn was finished now, and the fence reinforced with the spikes Sasha had spent days sharpening. Right now Maggie and Glenn were in the loft of the barn, watching the rear portion of the property, and Tara and Tyrese were out front in the tree house, Tara just finishing her sweep, had passed by him about five minutes ago. Daryl was loathe to admit that Eugene had been right about the upward trajectory or whatever the hell poppycock babble he'd spilled that day at the gas station, as the Walkers had not been an issue. A few strays here or there, but nothing substantial. Thankfully.

_It was the living Daryl feared the most._

He could see Beth moving through the window, the outline of her form passing by the makeshift curtains she had hung, heading towards the fireplace to put another log on, reminding Daryl how damn cold and miserable he was out here perched in a God damned tree. He was tired and he missed her something fierce, barely seeing her the last three days that he had set up his post here. Figures. He asks her to move into his room with him and then only spends one night with her and three alone in an uncomfortable tree.

He knew he needed to do this, though. He needed to protect her and everyone else, and so he had stayed. Just how long he had planned to do so, he had no idea.

He passed the time as he usually did, making a mental checklist of shit that still needed to get done and thinking of Beth. His favorite being the latter. His mind kept going back to the last night he had spent with her, the more he reflected, the more he realized that his dominate actions that evening were carved out of jealousy. Why, he could not fathom. Beth was an attractive girl and he was certainly no fool, he knew he wasn't the only one who had noticed. And Noah had never been anything but respectful to either of them, even noting that they were in a relationship.

Daryl snorted.  _A relationship_. He never thought it would be word he'd use when referring to himself. But here he was, sitting in a tree in thirty degree weather in the dead of night, waiting to ambush an unknown enemy, and pondering on his relationship with Beth Greene. If he wasn't so damn irritable, he'd probably laugh.

A rustling below set the hair on the back of his neck standing. Daryl raised his bow, adjusting himself on the branch and scanned the ground around him for the source of the noise, his scattered thoughts all but forgotten for the moment. A rabbit darted out from the tree line and into the lawn, clearly visible in the moonlight, and Daryl blew out a breath of relief.

"I should shoot ya," he mumbled quietly, more to himself than the rabbit, as it hopped back into the brush and out of sight. He wondered if that was the same rabbit that dumb one-eyed mutt had been trying to catch last week, as he willed himself to relax. Might be a good idea to set some more snares tomorrow, it had been awhile since they had sunk their teeth into real animal flesh.

The snapping of a twig brought him back to full attention, his eyes once again immediately scanning his surroundings for the source and landing on Carol coming around the back of the kitchen, a steaming mug in her hand.

"Psssst Daryl," she whispered, scanning the tree line, searching for him.

Daryl considered staying out of sight, not wanting to give up his cover, but decided against it, the hot contents of the mug too enticing. Throwing his bow on his back, he swung down from the branch, hopped out of the tree and headed towards the back door.

"To warm your bones," Carol greeted him, handing him the mug.

"And give away my position," Daryl grumbled, accepting the mug that was filled with hot chocolate, to his delight.

"Have you considered that whomever our resident peeping Tom may be, was watching when you climbed up in that tree and that's why you haven't seen anything?" Carol asked, playing devils advocate. "You need a better spot, one that you don't give yourself away by climbing into it in plain sight," she suggested, pulling her sweater tighter around herself to stay warm.

Truth was, Daryl had already mulled over that possibility.

"You sure it's not one of our own? Gabriel? Noah maybe?" Carol asked.

Truth was, Daryl had already mulled over that possibility too.

"Can't say fer sure 'bout Gabriel, but sum'thin' tells me he ain't ballsy enough ta come out here alone in tha dark," Daryl answered her. The priest was a coward through and through. He kept to himself mostly and did not agree with the group killing Walkers, even though "Thou shalt not kill" didn't really apply to anyone who was already dead and trying to eat your flesh.

"And Noah?"

Daryl shook his head. "Couldn't a been. Brought him after."

"After what?" Carol prodded.

"Seen a face in tha window," Daryl admitted, deciding to confide in her. "Tha night Bob died. No one knows, just you an' Rick. Time line jus' don't add up."

"Rick talk to you about Sasha?" Carol asked, changing the subject.

"'Bout her goin' outside tha fence without tellin' no one?" When Carol nodded, Daryl went on, "Yah. Not sure what were s'posed ta do 'bout it, though."

"It's Tyrese's problem if you ask me. She's been warned, she knows the dangers. If she doesn't care, why should we? Rick's still too damn busy trying to save the world," Carol stated, calmly, despite the venom of her words, and gingerly sipped from her mug.

Daryl lifted his own mug, his hair cloaking the disbelief in his eyes. He was having trouble accepting this new, more hardened Carol and couldn't pinpoint exactly when this change had occurred. Or maybe he just hadn't noticed it before because he had changed too. Awkward silence stretched between them for a few minutes, as they both pretended to survey their surroundings, Daryl kicking the dirt at his feet and Carol readjusting her sweater again.

"Why ya gotta do that?" Daryl finally asked her, as he brought his mug back down.

"Do what?" Carol asked.

"Cut Rick down all tha time. He didn't ask ta be tha leader. He ain't perfect, christ, no one is, but he's done alright by us. Alright by you," he added with inflection.

Carol was silent a moment, contemplating his words. "He's gotten us farther than I ever thought he would," She admitted. "I'll give him that. But it's only a matter of time before this place falls too."

"Wouldn't kill ya ta have a lil' faith," Daryl replied, Beth's words ringing in his head as they spilled from his lips.

Carol laughed, "Since when did you become so enlightened?"

"Since when did ya become so cynical?" Daryl threw back at her.

"I'm not cynical Daryl, I'm a realist. Having faith never did anything for me, and it sure as shit never did anything for you."

Daryl shook his head. "Ain't true."

"Enlightened, faithful Daryl who will follow Rick into the bowels of hell ..." Carol let her words trail off.

"Tha hells tha matter wit ya?" Daryl demanded. He'd been trying to keep his cool, but Carol seemed dead set on picking a fight tonight.

Carol shrugged, taking another sip from her mug. It didn't take long for the awkward silence to creep up on them once again, Daryl now regretting his decision to reveal himself, wishing he would have just stayed in the tree, the cold be damned. Long gone were the days where conversation came easy between him and Carol, they were buried back at the prison with the charred bodies of Karen and David. He had forgiven Carol, like pretty much everyone else, she had redeemed herself by risking her life to save them all from Terminus, so yes, Daryl had forgiven her, but he would never forget.

"So I see Beth moved in to your room while you were away?" She observed, keeping her tone light, but Daryl did not for one second miss the accusatory undertones disguised in her voice.

"I asked her to stay wit me. Simple as that," Daryl snapped. "Ain't discussin' this wit no one no more, least of all you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Carol snapped back, insulted by his words, her eyes seeking him out, looking for an explanation and finding none.

She scoffed then, surprising Daryl. "You think I'm jealous?" She asked. "Am I acting jealous? Maybe I am," she shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it does eat at me just a bit. Not in a romantic way," she laughed, the sound bitter and hollow, biting at Daryl's ears. "We used to be close. I believed in you before any of these people. You were my friend first, so yeah ...maybe that does bother me just a little bit."

"We're still close-"

"We're not," Carol interrupted him, "and you know it. But I was weak back then. I didn't think I could be strong without you. Now I know that's not true," she sighed. "I don't need anyone. And besides we're too much alike you and I," Carol continued after a long sip from her mug. "We're damaged Daryl. All we know is how to push people away."

Daryl was silent, then. Any words he had been about to say, carried away in the mountain breeze. Carol was right. They weren't close anymore. She took a step toward him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but Daryl instinctively sidestepped her, the gesture seeming way too contrived.

She scoffed again, her eyes narrowing on him. "Look at you, you're doing it to me now, and you don't even notice it."

"If we're distant, take some responsibility fer it too," Daryl growled back at her.

Carol continued as if he hadn't said a word. "Eventually you'll do it to her too and you'll break her young heart because she's playing for keeps. My concern is for her and her alone, dear Daryl."

Daryl clenched his fists, Carol's words lashing at him, stinging like the end of his fathers belt. "I'd never hurt her-"

"You won't mean to," Carol cut him off, "but you will. Right now you're having fun playing house, but what happens later? Eventually it'll cause a rift in the group. People like us, like you and me, we're better off alone, Daryl. And you know I'm right whether or not you want to admit it."

And just like that she was finished. She stood beside him, staring into the darkness, sipping from her mug as though they'd been discussing the weather.

Taking a step backwards, Daryl tilted his mug, purposely spilling the rest of its contents onto the ground in front of them, Carol taking a step back to avoid it splashing up on her. It was an immature gesture and he knew it, but he just couldn't find it within himself to care at the moment.

"Yer wrong," he hissed, eyes narrowed, jaw squared defiantly, as he returned the empty mug back to her and stomped up the back stairs, needing to distance himself from the person he had once felt closest to in this world.

She didn't say another word, and she didn't come after him. Old Carol would have. She'd of chased him down, told him he shouldn't run from his problems, she would have cared if she'd hurt his feelings.  _But old Carol was gone_. And so was old Daryl.

Halfway through the kitchen, Daryl realized he didn't really have a destination in mind, he'd just wanted to distance himself from Carol. Perhaps her words held a ring of truth and that's what had gotten under his skin. He should go back out to his tree, except now his cover was possibly blown, and she was still out there. So instead, Daryl headed back to his room. Back to Beth, hoping she was still awake.

As he quietly crept into the room, he felt a sharp pang of disappointment that Beth was already asleep, covers tucked up to her chin and the dumb dog curled up at her feet. Willie opened his single eye and wagged his tail as Daryl closed the door and clicked the lock into place.

"Dog," Daryl nodded, returning the greeting as set his crossbow by the door where he always left it, and began removing his layers of clothing, stripping down to his underwear and slipping under the covers, careful not to disturb Beth.

Even in her sound sleep, Beth sensed his presence, turning towards him, wrapping her supple softness around him, and so Daryl clung to her, deriving comfort from simply having her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and cradled her head against his chest, ignoring the tickling sensation of her breath stirring the hair there.

Carol was wrong. He was not playing house, he just needed Beth close to him, to know she was safe. It was beyond that, though. He didn't quite know how to explain it, but Daryl just didn't feel right when she wasn't near. And by feel right, he meant empty. A deep, almost painful void that rehashed memories of when she was taken. All the sorrow and loneliness that Daryl felt he was doomed to carry with himself forever, because he still felt the weight of that guilt, still blamed himself for what went down that night.  _Over a dumb dog_. A dog Daryl was loathe to admit he was becoming quite fond of.

_Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

He didn't claim to know much about nothing, but he knew his feelings for Beth were genuine, which was pretty deep considering he'd never felt this way about anyone.  _Ever._  Daryl knew in that moment, without a doubt and with absolute clarity, that he'd lay down his life and die to protect her. Even if it was from himself.

Instinctively, his arms tightened around her and she sighed in her sleep, her soft body literally melting into his, one of her legs sliding up and hooking around his, linking them. Tomorrow was the first day in awhile that he'd have some free time, and he planned to use it to his advantage, do something nice for Beth ...with Beth.

Willing his mind to clear and his body to relax, he settled deeper into the blankets, pulling them higher around him and Beth to ward away the chill of the night and finally succumbed to sleep in the arms of the woman he loved.

 


	26. Who are you, and what have you done with Daryl Dixon?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Beth take a much needed day for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! Okay, just a few words about last chapter and Carol's behavior. I know it appeared that I am writing her sort of bitchy, but let me explain. Carol has changed so much since season 4 and I think it's really important to convey how far apart these two characters are right now - even in the show. Her newfound strength came with a price, as do so many things in life. Carol has proven time and again that she will do whatever is necessary to survive, with a very Shane-like mentality (the core group is all that matters), where Daryl is all about helping people and still believing (thanks to our sweet Doodlebug) that there are still good people out there. He wants to believe this and he wants to help them if he finds them. They are clearly on two very different paths, and my goal is to show this, not to make Carol appear like a mega-bitch. In case I gave the wrong impression, Carol is not jealous of Beth in a romantic way (because in TWD I have never perceived her love for Daryl as anything but familial), but she is jealous in the sense that she is losing common ground with him, and feeling more isolated. Sorry for the rambling rant! Sigh. 
> 
> Enjoy this Bethyl-heavy chapter! xoxo ~ Lis

 

 

 

Daryl awoke, just before dawn, his internal alarm clock as accurate as ever. Sitting up, he was careful not to wake Beth, as he gently untangled her limbs from his and slid out of the bed. He wanted her to rest a bit longer while he finalized some things, and besides, she was going to need her energy.

Raising his arms high over his head, Daryl stretched, then bent to scratch the dumb one-eyed dog behind its ear. With a million things on his mind, he grabbed a clean set of clothing out of his dresser drawers and headed to the bathroom, dropping them on the toilet and turned the shower on, jumping in before the water even had a chance to heat up. Washing, rinsing and hopping out in the literal blink of an eye, Daryl drug his clothing on, ran a toothbrush over his teeth, and headed back to the bedroom. Stopping briefly to tug on his boots, he scooted Willie off of the bed and tucked the covers tighter around Beth, not wanting to put another log on the fire, since they'd be leaving soon.

Pausing to grab his crossbow and sling it on his back, Daryl snatched his empty backpack from the top of the dresser, clicked his teeth so Willie would follow and quietly stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Once he was in the kitchen, he threw open the cabinets and grabbed the things he needed, quickly stuffing them into his backpack and zipping it closed, leaving it on the counter. Next he grabbed an empty pot, filled it with water and turned the gas range to high. He set the pot on the burner to boil, grabbed up his backpack and headed to the front door, Willie at his heels.

Sliding out the board they'd rigged against the front door, so they didn't have to nail it in place every night, he pulled the door open. Daryl was just about to step outside when Rick's bedroom door creaked opened and he stepped out into the common room, barefoot and shirtless, his hair matted down on one side of his head.

"Rough night?" Daryl asked with a smirk. They were usually unkempt, but Rick looked rather rumpled this morning.

"What the hell are you so chipper about?" Rick grumbled, smearing his hand up and down his face vigorously, then blinking his eyes, trying to wake himself up.

"Goin' ta take Beth outside tha fence, teach her ta drive stick. Maybe go huntin', time permittin'," Daryl answered. "Judith have a bad night?"

Rick grimaced, pushing his hand through his matted hair. "Teething will be the death of me and we're completely out of that gunk Beth was rubbin' on her gums."

"Try some whisky," Daryl offered, stepping out of the way so Willie could go outside and relieve himself.

"For her or me?" Rick raised an eyebrow.

"Have everyone make a list. We're 'bout due fer a pharmacy run. Maybe ta'morrow?" Daryl suggested.

Rick nodded, turning around to head back to his room. "Have fun and be careful," he called over his shoulder before shutting his bedroom door.

Grabbing the quilted throw on the back of the loveseat, Daryl tucked it under his arm and continued out the door, his boots clapping on the porch steps as he eagerly made his way to the Jeep, tucking the blanket and backpack safely into the backseat. Remembering he left the pot of water boiling on the stove, he whistled for the dumb dog as he bounded back up the porch steps and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Daryl rounded the corner of the dinning room, his enthusiasm coming to a screeching halt as he encountered Maggie in the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee, her and Glenn fresh off of night watch. The water must've over-boiled, as she'd removed the pot and already turned the burner off.

"Good mornin'," she drawled, tones clipped, when it appeared Daryl wasn't going to say anything.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, grabbing bowls and emptying the contents of two blueberries and cream instant oatmeal packets into them.

"Daryl Dixon in the kitchen?" Maggie regarded him, feigning shock. "What's the special occasion?" She asked, watching over his shoulder as he grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around the pot handle so he could pour the water into the bowls.

"Goin' huntin'," he answered, grabbing two spoons from the silverware drawer. It was true for the most part. If they had the time.

"Takin' Beth too?" Maggie pried, leaning gingerly against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head to one side, as Beth often did.

Daryl nodded, "That's tha plan."

"When are you comin' back?" Maggie asked, doing her best impression of a stern parent.

"When we're done," Daryl replied calmly, continuing on with his task, stirring the oatmeal into the water.

"Ya just watch where your pointin' your bolts, Dixon," Maggie's tone was serious, threatening even, but when he raised his head to look at her, her eyes were teasing, overflowing with humor.

"Lay off Maggie, you know Darryl's got good aim," Glenn chimed in with a smirk, not waiting for the coffee to finish percolating before pouring himself a cup.

"Man's right," Daryl joined in. "My aims good, real good," he taunted, his lips tilting into a lopsided grin. If Maggie was throwing down the gauntlet this morning, Daryl was going to accept the challenge. "Or so I've been told."

"That's what I'm worried about," she shot back, side-eyeing Daryl. "Ya just protect my baby sister, hear?"

"Wit my life," Daryl replied with complete honesty, scooping up the bowls and heading back towards his room.

Only when he reached the door did he stop to ponder just how in the hell he was going to open it with two steaming bowls of oatmeal in his hands. He turned to berate the dog for once again being useless, only to find Maggie standing behind him. With a smug smile, she reached down and twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.

"Real genius," she snarked playfully, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks," Daryl replied, nudging the door open the rest of the way with his boot, and stepping inside. Then, "later Maggie," as he kicked it shut as the dog shimmied in, preventing her from peeking nosily inside the room, as she so obviously desperately wanted to.

Beth was still sleeping, curled up on her side like a kitten, her hands tucked under her cheek. She was so unbelievably beautiful, even more so in her peaceful slumber, Daryl swore he could go on watching her forever, except the bowls he was still holding were burning holes through his palms. Quickly, he set them down on the dresser and crawled onto the bed, laying down to face Beth, and gently pushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Rise an' shine, Greene," he whispered in his raspy voice, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose.

Beth stirred, sleepily blinking her eyes. "Five more minutes," she murmured, attempting to pull the covers up over her head.

"C'mon Beth," Daryl coaxed her, gripping the blankets and blocking her attempt to cover herself. "We ain't gonna have many more nice days left before winter. Got a busy day. An' I made breakfast," he added.

Her eyes flew open at that. "You made breakfast? For me? Daryl that's so sweet," she cooed, laying her hand on his stubbly cheek and stroking it affectionately.

"Don't go gettin' all googly-eyed, Greene. It's jus' instant oatmeal," he scoffed, trying to minimize his affectionate expression.

"Oh, well then ...five more minutes," she said again, tugging the blankets from his hand, then giggling as he pinned her arms and rolled on top of her.

Beth grew instantly serious, her eyes immediately clouding over with desire as she felt Daryl stir between her legs, already growing hard from the contact. She licked her lips, waiting for his kiss.

Daryl groaned. "Don't go lookin' at me like that girl, or we'll never leave this room, an' I have our whole day planned."

Growing bold, Beth wriggled her hips beneath him, nestling him deeper in the vee of her thighs, gasping at the friction. "Surely you can spare a few minutes?"

"Shameless hussy," Daryl teased her, bending to cover her mouth with his own in a gentle kiss, his tongue lightly brushing against hers, sending a jolt of desire shooting straight to his toes.

He released her abruptly, pushing himself away from her and rolling off of the bed in one fluid motion, lest he throw his well thought out plans to the wind and make love to her until she couldn't walk for a week. Ignoring Beth's adorable pouting face, he strolled to the dresser, grabbing her bowl of oatmeal and handed it to her.

"Eat up, Greene," he ordered her, scooping up his own bowl and shoveling its contents into his mouth without really tasting it. "Then get yer cute lil' backside in tha shower an' put on sum'thin' comfortable."

"Where we goin'?" Beth asked then closed her mouth over her next spoonful, regarding Daryl with a curious expression.

"You'll see," Daryl said with a coy smile.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

"No Daryl, stop! I'm not ready," Beth squealed.

"What tha hell ya gotta be ready fer? It's jus' drivin" Daryl said, from the passenger seat of the Jeep.

"This is not like regular driving," Beth protested, side-eyeing Daryl. "It's gonna stall again."

"Prob'ly," Daryl agreed, trying to contain his humor. "But that's how ya learn."

He'd brought Beth a little ways down the mountain from the lodge and to the west, to an abandoned field. It was overgrown with tall weeds and grass, beginning to brown and die from the oncoming winter, but it was empty and open and away from town where they might run into someone unsavory, and they were in a Jeep, after all. So far, she had yet to master getting it out of first gear without stalling it.

Beth sighed exaggeratedly and placed her hand back on the shifter, looking to Daryl for confirmation.

Daryl nodded. "Put it in neutral. Yep," he said, placing his hand over top of hers and giving the stick a wiggle from left to right. "Middle is neutral. Now go on, start 'er up. You don't need ta push in tha clutch unless yer startin' 'er in gear."

Beth turned the key in the ignition and the Jeep's engine hummed to life, again looking to Daryl for confirmation, she gripped the stick, laying her foot down on the clutch and shifted the Jeep into first gear, pushing the stick up and to the left.

"That'a girl," Daryl encouraged her. "Now ease off tha clutch and give 'er some gas. Easy ..."

Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, Beth did as she was told, wincing as the Jeep bucked forward and began to move, the engine whining out in first gear, as she gave it more gas. Her face awash with nervousness, she pushed the clutch in again, pulling the shifter down and left and choppily shifting it into second gear. Again, it bucked forward but did not stall.

"Oh my God, I did it," she cried, her smile so big you could see it from space. Giving it more gas, she eased in the clutch again and pushed the shifter into third gear, her smile growing wider as it shifted more smoothly. "Do you see this Daryl? I'm doing it!"

"I see ya Greene," Daryl called back, grinning like a fool with pride. He loved watching her like this, full of confidence, her hair blowing loose from her ponytail, cheeks pink and flushed from excitement. She was a mess, and she was breathtakingly beautiful. Vibrant and full of life. "Told ya. Now, slow down an' downshift."

Beth did as she was told, biting her lip when the Jeep bucked again, but just a little. She took the Jeep to the end of the field, then looped around and came back to the center, up and downshifting as Daryl directed, her shifting becoming more and more seamless the more she practiced.

"Alright Beth, lemme show ya sum'thin' fun," Daryl said, as Beth was nearing the end of the field again. "Give 'er some more gas, then cut the wheel to the right-"

"The right? Why?" Beth interrupted him, confused. "There's bushes there, I need to go left."

"Jus' do it," Daryl persisted, and as she did, he jerked the e-brake up, spinning the Jeep in a three hundred and sixty degree angle to the left, and in the direction she needed to go.

In the unexpected excitement of the moment, Beth accidentally let her foot off of the clutch, and the jeep lurched forward and stalled, her expression shifting from excited, to disappointment. Daryl laughed out loud and was rewarded with a slap on the shoulder.

"S'all right girl. Start 'er up an' do it again," He said, pointing to the opposite end of the field. "It's much more fun ta do in the a snow, but'l also come in handy if yer ever in a pinch and need ta turn 'round real fast."

"And does Rick know about all your evasive driving techniques, Mr. Dixon whose never been in jail?" Beth teased him.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "Merle an' I used ta do this when we were kids. Took tha ol' mans truck down ta tha quarry ta do donuts when he was too lit ta notice ...which was pretty much all tha time," he mumbled the last part under his breath.

Concentrating at her newfound skill, Beth restarted the Jeep, shifting as she should, only choppy coming out of first gear, and gunned it to the other end of the field. When she could go no farther, she jerked the wheel hard to the right, and pulled the e-brake up herself, successfully spinning the jeep to the left, pushed in the clutch and eased the jeep right into the next gear, without missing a beat. Letting out a whoop of excitement, she sped back to the other side, repeating her actions once more and then pulled the Jeep back to the center of the field and cut the engine.

"Congratulations Miss Greene," Daryl said. "Ya passed tha course."

"The Daryl Dixon school of driving. That was fun," Beth admitted. "Go again?"

"Nah," Daryl replied with a quick shake of his head, pushing open the passenger side door and climbing out. "Don't wanna burn up all our gas. Besides, got sum'thin' else in mind."

"Oh?" Beth asked, intrigued at his vagueness.

"Yep," he called as he walked around the front of the Jeep and opened the drivers side door, motioning for Beth to scoot across the seat to the passenger side. "Ya can drive on tha way home."

"Where we goin'?" Beth asked, settling herself into the passenger seat, glancing over at him expectantly.

"Ya hungry?" Daryl asked, starting the Jeep back up, he pushed in the clutch and shifted the Jeep back into gear, pulling out of the field and heading back towards home.

"A little," Beth confessed, laying her smaller hand on top of Daryl's on the stick shift. "Thought you said we weren't going home?"

"We're not," Daryl answered, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against her hand. "Not really."

About a quarter of a mile from the turnoff to the lodge, Daryl pulled the Jeep onto the shoulder, carefully guiding it into the woods and out of sight from the main road. He kept it in first gear as slowly inched up the incline, a few yards away from the road and effectively out of sight.

"We walk from here," he explained, cutting the engine and climbing out of the Jeep, tucking the keys safely into his pants pocket.

"Walk where?" Beth asked, coming to stand beside Daryl behind the Jeep, as he pulled the backpack out and shouldered it, tossing the quilt over top of it.

"Wherever tha hunt takes us," Daryl replied, handing Beth his crossbow. "Ya remember everythin' I taught ya?"

"Of course," Beth replied with a nod of her head, wincing for just a moment as she adjusted his crossbow a little better in her arms. Her sprain was almost healed, and only bothered her when she put extreme pressure on it.

Daryl placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding Beth forward and farther into the woods ahead of them. "S'good," he said, a smirk creeping its way to his mouth. "Impress me."

 


	27. Just another Whitetrash Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth shows off the hunting and tracking skills that Daryl taught her, while Daryl tries to show Beth what she has taught him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey loves! Sorry for the delay ...had to make sure this chapter properly hits ya right in the feels. Thanks for sticking with me and my story - I truly appreciate it, as well as your heartfelt words (those of you who leave them)! Let me know how this chapter makes you feel - leave some feedback. Love you all! xoxo ~ Lis

 

 

 

Beth stepped lightly on the forest floor, Daryl hanging back a bit to observe her. Watching her survey her surroundings, studying the ground below their feet, the brush around them, the canopy of trees loosing their leaves, overhead. Keeping her footsteps deliberate and quiet, she was on the trail of something and it hadn't taken her long to pick up, either. Daryl wasn't saying it out loud any time soon, but he was certainly impressed.

Pausing, she swung the crossbow onto her back, bending down, her fingers brushing against the forest floor, pushing aside some fallen leaves, revealing tracks. Claw-like, three toes, pointing forward, the longest one in the middle.

"What do you think?" Beth asked, looking up at Daryl from her position on the ground.

Daryl shrugged. "Fowl. Pheasant prob'ly."

Beth pushed aside a few more leaves and pointed to the dirt. "A couple of them," she nodded, tucking an errant curl behind her ear and straightening back up into a standing position.

Sliding the crossbow back off her shoulder blades and into her arms, she stalked forward, continuing up the mountainside. Daryl walked quietly behind her, watching the graceful sway of her hips as she moved through the woodsy terrain, loathe to admit considering the circumstances, he was getting turned on seeing her utilize the skills he had taught her.

As they began to crest the next hill, Beth paused again, silencing Daryl with the wave of her hand, she leaned forward, her head cocked to the side as she listened. Gurgling. Sloshing.

"Water ..." She said, her blue eyes sparkling.

Daryl nodded. "Prob'ly tha stream tha pond at tha lodge feeds," he suggested. It made sense, as they we're within walking distance of the lodge.

With a nod, she continued on, her expression one of grim determination. A little further up the mountain, they finally came upon the stream, nestled in a little glen, the sun streaming through the canopy of trees overhead, peaceful and picturesque. Across the narrow stream, hen pecking the soft forest floor, was Beth's little flock of pheasants. Quietly, she crept forward, her finger on the trigger of the crossbow, one eyelid drifting closed, the other focused on her target.

"Go fer tha neck," Daryl suggested from behind her, but she was already squeezing the trigger, the bolt flying across the stream with amazing accuracy, striking the male pheasant with the red face right in the head. It dropped, as the other pheasants panicked and flew away, wings flapping furiously as they took off for safety.

"Told you pretty soon I wouldn't need you at all," Beth teased him, beaming with pride, as she lowered the crossbow.

Daryl leapt across the steam and collected Beth's catch, holding it out so she could see her handy work. "Not bad," he replied casually.

Placing her hands on her hips, Beth regarded him with mock anger. "Not bad, eh?" She said, her brows drawing together, lips pursed in a childish pout.

"I'm slightly impressed," Daryl answered nonchalantly, still teasing her.

"Didn't know you were such a critic," Beth laughed, leaning the crossbow against the base of the tree she stood under.

"Ya did good, Greene," Daryl said with a curt nod, leaping back over the stream and laying the pheasant on a nearby fallen log. He wasn't much for pleasant overtures, but she had done far better than good and she damn well knew it ...without him saying so.

Daryl pulled the quilt from his shoulders and spread it on the ground under one of the trees, plopping down and sliding the backpack off of his back. Patting the blanket with his hand, he indicated for Beth to join him. As she sat and made herself comfortable, Daryl removed the contents of his pack, spreading them out on the blanket between them. A two liter bottle of cola, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of jelly, and two spoons. Beth watched him intently, her deep blue eyes awash in wonder as he laid out the last supper they had shared before their separation that fateful night that now seemed so long ago.

"A whitetrash brunch?" She asked softly, her voice the slightest bit shaky.

"Couldn't find tha pickled pigs feet, so I grabbed these," Daryl explained, pulling a bag of fried pork skins out of the backpack and laying them down beside the jelly jar. "Close 'nuff," he mumbled, his eyes downcast, suddenly feeling shy under the intense heat of Beth's emotional gaze.

Beth smiled warmly. "It's a good substitute," she said, reaching to twist the lid off of the peanut butter jar. "This is unbelievably sweet Daryl."

Daryl blinked, unsure what to say and reached for the jelly jar, as Beth lifted a spoonful of peanut butter into her mouth. The silence stretched between them for a few moments, Beth sucking her spoon, Daryl wanting to impress Beth, also opting for the spoon over his fingers. It was Beth who broke the silence, her voice quiet and strained, as if she knew she was charting painful territory.

"What happened that night?"

Daryl sighed heavily. He knew this was an inevitability, maybe deep down, even wanted it to happen. "Ya don't remember?"

"I do, I remember everything," Beth answered quickly. "I meant ...after ..." She let her words trail off.

Daryl shrugged, staring off into the distance, replaying it all in his mind like he'd done a thousand times since that night. "After I led tha Walkers down ta tha basement, I came out ta tha road an' saw them tail lights. Must'a damn near chased down that car fer hours. All I remember was it was dark when I started chasin' an' it was dusk when I finally stopped."

He blew out a shaky breath and continued, "Didn't wanna stop. Couldn't even feel my legs anymore, drippin' wet wit sweat, hurt ta breathe ...didn't care. I jus' didn't know which way ta go. I didn't ... I shouldn't - I shouldn't'a gave up ..." Daryl stumbled over his words, his shame overwhelming him. He closed his eyes, the guilt he felt threatening once again to swallow him whole. He hadn't meant to fail her, but in the end, that's exactly what he did.

_Stupid. Redneck. Ass-_

"It wasn't your fault Daryl," Beth said softly, her warm hand on his shoulder, burning his skin through his clothing, pulling him from his ugly thoughts, his mantra of self loathing.

"It was," he insisted, ashamed to look her in the face, he cast his eyes downward again, fiddling with an imaginary piece of dirt under his thumbnail.

"It wasn't," she said firmly. "You wanted me out so I'd be safe. How could you have known I'd run out into the road and be hit?"

"I was distracted," Daryl continued, all the pent up hurt and guilt he'd stuffed down rose up like bile, choking him. "Shouldn't'a opened tha door. I almost lost ya, an' all over a damn dog ... Jus' wanted ta get 'em fer ya ...wanted ta make ya happy .."

Beth set down the peanut butter jar and grasped Daryl's face gently between her hands. "Look at me Daryl," she demanded softly, pulling his gaze upward, forcing him to look at her, face his demons once again. "It wasn't your fault, and I'm okay. I'm here, with you."

"Ya were just ...gone," Daryl's voice was a breathy whisper, choked with emotion. "Thought I'd never see ya again. Never get tha chance ta tell ya ..."

"Tell me what?" Beth asked, her big blue eyes swimming with that soulful look that broke him down, made him feel naked and vulnerable.

Suddenly feeling the same way he had that night in the kitchen, Daryl awkwardly stumbled over his words. "Ya know," he answered, his shoulders lifting and rolling into a shrug.

"Tell me what, Daryl?" Beth persisted, her gaze binding him, holding him transfixed, unable to look away ...even if he wanted to.

Daryl cocked his head to one side, rolling his shoulders again, "Mmmm mmm," he grunted.

"Don't mmm mmm me," She said, tilting her head to the side coyly, her seriousness replaced with a knowing smile.  _She felt it too_. Their conversation, like their lunch, reminiscent of that night. "Tell me what?"

Daryl grasped the frayed edges of the last remnants of his courage and with the bright blue of her eyes giving him strength, he sucked in a shaky breath and answered her.

"I love you," he breathed, the words cathartic as they tumbled from his lips. "I love you so god damned much Beth Greene," he declared again, his voice sounding pained in his own ears.

And the flood gates opened, all the hurt, the shame, the guilt ...it spilled out of him, the weight on his heart lifting, as he buried his face in Beth's lap, clinging to her with a desperate, wrenching need.

"I love you Daryl Dixon," Beth answered back in her sing-song kind of way, as she cradled his head in her lap, her hands smoothing his head and shoulders, _soothing her savage beast_ , as he told her about Joe and Len, the other Claimers, how he'd met up with Rick, Carl and Michonne. How he found them, like she'd always said they would, and how bad it hurt him that she wasn't there with them.

Daryl told her about Terminus, how he promised Maggie in that tiny dark boxcar "A", that she was alive, and he was going to find her. He told her about how Carol had rescued them and how relieved he'd been to see her alive, and how it had fueled his hope that she was out there alive somewhere too. Everything tumbling out of him in a burst of raw emotion, he let it all go while in the protective circle of Beth's arms, and when he finished he felt exhausted and renewed all at once.

As Daryl pushed himself up to finally look at her face and he saw the reflection of himself in the giant blue orbs of her eyes, it was like he was looking at himself for the first time. Like the night they lit the moonshine shack on fire, he had once again risen from the ashes, burnt down the past. Clean slate. And with renewed clarity, he finally saw what she saw. Not a stupid, redneck, asshole failure, but a _man_. Not a nothing or a nobody, but a somebody.  _A somebody who meant something to others_. Who wasn't perfect, but tried to do the right thing. Who'd made mistakes, but wasn't beyond redemption.

But mostly, _just a man._

And then before he could drag a drop of air into his deflated lungs, Beth was in his arms, knocking him backwards, her own arms tightening around him. She was squeezing him like she  _thought_  he was her lifeline, and Daryl was squeezing her back like he  _knew_  she was his. They stayed that way for quite some time, clinging to each other in the little glen with only the sound of the stream and an occasional falling leaf disturbing the quiet.

Daryl ran his hands up and down the length of Beth's back, memorizing the texture of her cardigan, feeling her heart beating against his and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. He'd stay here with her like this forever, but the sky was starting to darken and they still had a ways to walk back to the Jeep.

"C'mon Greene, gettin' dark. Let's get home, pluck that bird an' eat some damn meat ain't come from a can fer once," Daryl said, gently nudging her upwards.

Beth lifted her head from his chest, leaning to place a quick peck on his lips when Daryl noticed the telltale moisture and redness of her eyes, puffy from crying.

"Aww hell girl," Daryl sighed, reaching to gently wipe the wetness from her eyes with his calloused thumbs. "Thought ya'd be happy ta hear my undyin' declaration of love an' devotion," he smiled at her. "What's wit tha water works?"

Beth smiled back, a blush creeping into her already flushed cheeks, lighting her up like a Christmas tree. "Ain't crying cus I'm sad, you big oaf," she playfully swatted his shoulder.

"Women," Daryl grumbled, feigning distaste. He was rewarded with another swat to the shoulder, as Beth drug herself up and straightened her rumpled clothing.

She bent down to close and pack up the uneaten food, as Daryl stood and stopped her, grabbing her hand and tugging her back into his arms for a long kiss. Sweet and passionately, he teased her, running his tongue along her bottom lip before easing it into her mouth, slowly tasting every inch of her. The kiss wasn't demanding or dominating, but sensual and full of longing and unspoken promise. When he finally released her, they were both breathless.

"Get ta it, girl!" He demanded, playfully smacking her on her rear end, as he grabbed up his crossbow and shouldered it.

"Better watch yer mouth sunshine," Beth grumbled in her best Daryl impersonation, side-eying him as she bent to quickly toss their redneck brunch in the backpack, zipping it up and shrugging it onto her back.

She stood, patiently waiting, swiping the remaining moisture from her eyes as Daryl bent to retrieve the quilt from the ground. He shook it out, knocking the leaves off of it, and draped it over Beth's shoulders, then grabbed the pheasant from the log. Carefully, they headed back down the mountainside, following the trail they had created, this time Daryl in the lead, as they made their way back to the Jeep. Needing to touch her, Daryl reached back behind him for Beth's little hand, smiling as she instantly placed it within his grasp. Soft and small in contrast with his larger and rougher one, he brushed his thumb across her knuckles, then wove his fingers through hers,  _entwining them_.

 


	28. All Your Mental Armor Drags Me Down, Nothing Hurts Like Your Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little heated after dinner and Beth and Daryl face their first night of separation since being reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to start by thanking everyone for their patience. Some issues sprung up mid-move which delayed us, but we are settled in now and LOVE it here. I am back in writing mode full steam, and you'll all be happy to know that Chapter 29 (a very long chapter, I might add) is already in my editors' hands, and I'm currently working on chapter 30, so expect another update soon.
> 
> In other news, I've finally started being an ACTIVE blog on tumblr, and hung up my lurker hat, so if you're not already following me (shameless plug) come find me: Kitten1618x - I welcome your questions and feedback about From the Ashes! No, seriously. ;) 
> 
> Also, can we just take a minute to appreciate my editor and dear friend, Ben - he keeps me grounded and helps keep the characters IN character, and this story would not be possible without him. So, enjoy this next installment and drop me the feels. ~Peace, Love & Bethyl xoxo Lis

The rain had already begun falling heavy and hard as Beth drove them back up the rocky mountain stone road that led home. Despite just learning to drive stick that morning, she handled reversing out of the woods quite well and only stalled the Jeep once. Abe met them at the gate, shouldering his rifle and swinging it open. He gave them a thumbs up as Daryl held the pheasant up for him to see while Beth drove through, parking the Jeep beside the lodge.

 

As they exited the Jeep and hurried out of the rain, Rick met them on the porch, a very cranky Judith in his arms. Without hesitation, Beth plucked her from his grasp, swaying her gently against her chest as she whispered softly in her ear, quieting the fussy baby. Within minutes, Judith was sound asleep, her head pressed against Beth's bosom.

 

"Ya make it look so effortless," Rick shook his head, a defeated smile on his face.

 

Careful not to wake the sleeping baby, Beth smiled kindly in return, stepping lightly past him and into the lodge to put Judith in her bed.

 

"Guess she just needed mama Beth," Michonne laughed, placing a sympathetic hand on Ricks' shoulder as she passed Beth and joined them on the porch.

 

"So what did you catch?" Rick asked, eyeing the bird dangling from Daryl's hand.

 

"Pheasant," Daryl answered, holding it up for a better view. "Wasn't me though," he added. "Beth shot it. Clear through tha head too."

 

"Beats the hell out of Spam," snorted Michonne. "Still waiting for my damn cheeseburger." She crossed her arms over her chest feigning annoyance with a coy smile in Daryl's direction, and raised one shapely brow. "She gonna put you out of a job, Archer?"

 

"How ya think she got so good?" Daryl retorted, playfully elbowing Michonne's shoulder as he headed towards the lodge door.

 

"Daryl," Rick's voice called after him, halting him in his tracks. The tone in his voice gave Daryl a sinking feeling in his gut, as he turned to face him.

 

"That issue I spoke to you about awhile back," Rick continued, scratching the stubble where his beard used to be. "With Sasha wandering off," he added when Daryl looked confused - not like they didn't have at least a dozen issues pop up on a daily basis.

 

"Yeh?"

 

"It's not getting any better. Worst, as a matter of fact."

 

"Ya talk ta Ty?" Daryl asked, although he knew the answer before Rick even nodded his head. "Let me think on it," He said finally with a heavy sigh, feeling that weight creep up and settle on his shoulders once more.

 

Rick simply nodded in reply as Daryl ducked into the lodge and made his way straight to the kitchen. While no one had blamed him for Bob's death, the fact still remained that he was here, and Bob was not, and Sasha and her pain were a daily walking reminder of that.

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

Dinner was quiet, everyone concentrating on stuffing their stomachs full with Beth's pheasant. Carol had rubbed it in several herbs and spices and the heady aroma still teased their nostrils long after the bird was devoured. It had been accompanied with canned carrots that Beth had glazed in a drop of honey and brown sugar, _momma's recipe_ , and instant white rice. Michonne had been one hundred percent accurate, it beat the hell out of spam.

 

After the table had been cleared, the group still cluttered the dinning hall, an odd sense of tension hanging in the air. Pulling a cigar from the pocket of his fatigues, Abraham was the first to break the silence.

 

"Well," he sighed, pinching off the end of the cigar and digging in his other pocket with his free hand, his eyes narrowing on Sasha who sat alone at the far table against the wall. "If nobody else is gonna say it, I guess I'll be the asshole."

 

As if Sasha sensed his eyes on her, she raised her head, her eyes narrowing back at his, defiance glimmering in their depths. "You got something to say?"

 

"Look," Rick intercepted, trying to keep the peace and reset the tone the conversation was abruptly taking.

 

"No," Abe interrupted him, crossing one thick muscled leg over his knee and striking the match in his fingers against the bottom of his boot. "The time for diplomacy has passed. If you drop any more damn hints, its gonna be a minefield," he scoffed, puffing hard on his cigar, the thick smoke replacing the lingering smell of the pheasant. Leaning his elbows on the table, he regarded Sasha once more. "As a matter of fact, I do. You got a death wish, honey?"

 

Daryl heaved a heavy sigh, knowing the conversation was about to erupt into a full blown argument and wishing just one day could end on a peaceful note. He felt Beth's comforting hand on his thigh under the table, as he pushed the tip of his thumbnail between his teeth and braced himself for the ensuing conflict.

 

"And what if I do Sergeant Slaughter?" Sasha snapped back. "I don't see how it's any of your damn business. Any of you," she added, pushing herself up from her chair and taking an aggressive stance, her eyes passing coolly over all of them.

 

"That ain't fair Sasha," Tyrese spoke up. "We are feeling Bob's loss with you, and we've all stacked up losses of our own as well-"

 

"You wouldn't know it to look at you all," Sasha interrupted him. "Everyone playing house like nothing's wrong and it's bullshit. This is all bullshit! How long before it all goes to hell? All the work we've put in here. In the end it always the same. Someone or something comes and all that's left is death and ashes and I can't do it anymore!"

 

"We just want you to be safe, Sasha. We ain't playin' house," Maggie chimed in, her voice cracking with emotion, "This _is_ real. We _are_ a family. We look out for each other."

 

"Maggie's right," Rick nodded. "If you need to be alone we understand, we just want you to stop wandering off by yourself when we don't know what threats are out there."

 

Sasha scoffed. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Weeping alone in the woods?" Her smile was anything but friendly as she continued, "I'm hunting the threat. Killing the Walkers. Getting to them before they can get to us. You should be thanking me, not ganging up on me."

 

"You're doing that for you, not for us," Michonne said in her quiet calm voice. "With all the danger around us, why purposely put yourself in harms way?"

 

"You think I can't handle myself?"

 

"I think you're angry. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed."

 

Tyrese blinked rapidly, Michonne's words reminiscent of when he'd been letting his anger consume him. "She's right," he nodded, appealing to his sister.

 

"Thank you peanut gallery," Sasha snarked back, not even bothering to look in his direction.

 

"Stick a fork in it, this is done," Abe's commanding voice boomed throughout the room. "You're sad, you're mad, we get it. Your vigilante Walker stalking days are over as of right now. If you like to kill things honey, you can come on watch with me."

 

Seething with anger, Sasha stood her ground, not at all cowed by Abraham's domineering personality. "You can't stop me," she ground out between clenched teeth, her hands gripping the sides of the table so hard her knuckles began turning white.

 

Abraham laughed at her bravado. "I sure as shit can honey, and I promise you I will."

 

"You go ahead and try, _honey_ " Sasha flung back at him, placing emphasis on the last word.

 

"Enough already, please!" Glenn cried. Appealing to Sasha with his kind nature, he sought her gaze and held it. "Sasha, you're brave and very capable and that's why we need you _here_. Helping to protect us _here_. It may just be temporary, but this is our home. It's what Bob would have wanted and that's how we honor his memory."

 

The room grew quiet again. The silence becoming unbearable until Sasha shouldered her rifle and made her way towards the back entrance.

 

"Not cool dude," Tara said quietly, throwing Abe an accusatory look. "Not cool at all."

 

"Shit," Rick mumbled, also casting Abe a disapproving glance as he pushed himself up from the table, but Daryl was quicker, already grabbing up his bow from where it was propped against the kitchen doorway, he stalked quietly after Sasha.

 

As the screen door banged shut behind him, he could hear Abe feigning innocence with a casual "what?"

 

"Sasha wait," Daryl called after her, but she paid him no mind as she stomped towards the barn to take her watch position in the loft. The rain beat down on him as he quickened his pace to catch up with her.

 

"Go away Daryl," she threw over her shoulder. "I've had as much _'for Bob's memory'_ speeches that I can stomach for one night."

 

"It was my fault," Daryl blurted out, unable to halt the words as they tumbled from his mouth. He stopped dead in his tracks as Sasha turned on her heel and whirled to face him.

 

"What do you want from me, Daryl?" Sasha demanded, her features contorted in pain. Her face was soaked and he couldn't tell if it was from the rain or her tears. She looked so small, standing there in Bob's jacket, and it tore at Daryl's heart.

 

"It shoulda been me. I shoved tha door an' lost my footin'. I thought there was only two Walkers, but there was three in there. I went down. Didn't even know he got bit ..."

 

"Why are you telling me this?" Sasha reached up and swiped the back of her hand across her face. "It doesn't make me feel any better."

 

Daryl stood stoic, waiting for her anger, waiting for her to lash out and hurt him like he felt he had hurt her, but neither came.

 

"You think I blame you? " Sasha shook her head, a bitter laugh working its way up her throat. "Get over yourself, Daryl. We all know what we're risking when we go out there. I don't blame you. Is that what you need to hear?"

 

"I blame myself," Daryl shot back. The rain, cold like the icy grip of death, soaked through his clothing and chilled him straight to his bones.

 

"What do you want from me, Daryl?" Sasha asked him again, transferring her rifle to her other shoulder. "If you need to be absolved, go talk to Father Gabriel. I couldn't give that to you if I wanted to."

 

Abruptly, she turned back in the direction of the barn. "Just leave me alone," she threw over her shoulder without a backwards glance.

 

Daryl watched her until she was safe within the structure in the distance, as his thoughts ran rampant again. She asked what he wanted from her. It was a good question. What did he want from Sasha? To be absolved of his guilt? _No_. Daryl shook his head, trying to dislodge his thoughts. It didn't matter what anyone said, Bob's death was on him, even if only indirectly, and no one would convince him otherwise. There would be no vindication.

 

When he came back into the house, most of the group had already cleared out, some heading off to their night watch positions, others getting ready to settle in. Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, Tyrese, Carol, Rick and Beth still remained.

 

"I'm guessing you didn't make any head way?" Tyrese asked, shrugging into his jacket.

 

Daryl shook his head no, as Tyrese bid them all goodnight and left out the back door to join his sister in the barn.

 

"Abe was out of line tonight," Maggie said, getting up from her chair, she grabbed a folded table cloth off of the dining room hutch and tossed it to Daryl.

 

"Yeh, he's a dick," Daryl agreed, catching the cloth. He mumbled his thanks as he laid down his bow and shrugged out of his once again sopping wet leather vest. Merle would roll over in his grave if he saw it.

 

"He's abrasive, but he wasn't wrong," Rick said, sliding his hand down his face in exasperation.

 

"We can't force her to stay inside. Maggie's right, he was out of line. Hasn't been the first time," Michonne reminded Rick, folding her arms over her chest and leaning more comfortably in her chair.

 

Shaking the water out of his hair, Daryl dropped down in the empty chair beside Glenn, his eyes drifting momentarily to Beth before settling into his seat and pushing the tip of his thumb into his mouth.

 

Carol pushed herself away from the door frame she was leaning on and pulled her sweater tighter around her. "I agree with Rick. Abe's got very little impulse control but he's right and it needed to be said."

 

"It accomplished nothing," Glenn replied, shaking his head in disagreement. "Except pissing her off more. She's still going to do it. Maybe more so now." He bowed his head and slumped in his chair.

 

"It's gotta be her problem then," Carol stated. "She's been warned. She knows the risks."

 

Maggie's head snapped around, her shocked expression completely transparent. "Sasha's our friend. We don't just dismiss her."

 

"I'm aware of that," Carol shot back. "She needs to come to terms on her own. Nothing any of us have said so far have changed her mind."

 

"But at this point she's not just putting herself in danger, she's putting us all in danger, " Glenn said, his weary eyes roaming over all of them as he spoke. "We've already had someone snooping around. Has everyone forgotten about that? Just because they haven't been back in a few days doesn't mean they're gone. What if someone see's her out there and follows her back? She could lead an ambush right back to us."

 

Daryl shifted uncomfortably. The lurker hadn't been far from his thoughts, or apparently anyone else's. Despite their vigilance and stepping up security measures, there hadn't been a single trace of anyone, but that didn't mean they were gone.

 

"She's smarter than that. Sasha's sharp. She'd know if someone was tailin' her," Daryl stated matter-of-factly.

 

"When she's on point," Rick agreed with a nod of his head. "But Ty says she ain't sleeping much either."

 

"I can take 'er watch ta'night," Daryl offered. He didn't want to spend a night without Beth, least of all tonight, but he didn't sit on his heels when shit needed to be done, either. If Beth was upset by his offer, she didn't show it in front of the others, but Daryl suspected she wouldn't be.

 

"Maybe that would be for the best," Rick agreed, and Daryl nodded back in acknowledgement of the new plan.

 

"She needs prayer," Father Gabriel said, stepping into the dining room. "I'm sorry," he added, "I didn't mean to intrude. She's lost. Maybe I could talk to her?"

 

Rick cocked his head. "Couldn't hurt to try."

 

"It'll be a waste of time," Carol snorted, bending to grab up her rifle. "You can't lead the blind or those who refuse to follow."

 

"No one is beyond reach," Father Gabriel replied kindly, undeterred by Carol's lack of faith.

 

Shaking her head, Carol made her exit, stopping only when Father Gabriel caught her arm on her way past him and said quietly for only her ears to hear, _"Even you."_

 

Daryl curiously witnessed the exchange, wondering what the priest had said to her. Whatever it was had her shaking him impatiently off her arm and hurrying out of the room to her watch post. Carol had the right idea. It was time to get moving.

 

Pushing himself up from his chair, he snapped up his vest and bow, and excused himself to get what he needed before replacing Sasha. Despite all eyes being on him, no one said a word as he extended his hand to Beth and gently tugged her up out of her chair, then led the way back to their room. It was no longer a secret that they were _...was together even the right word?_

 

The chill of their room hit them as soon as Daryl opened the door. Since they had been gone all day and then dove right into dinner no one had bothered lighting the fire. Daryl set right to the task, as Beth lit the oil lamp on the dresser and fished out some dry clothing for him. She was quiet and he wondered if he'd done something to upset her.

 

As the fire crackled and slowly sprang to life, Daryl eased himself up from the fireplace and tugged her into his arms. "Y'ok?"

 

Beth nodded, dropping his clothing onto the bed. "I'm just tired. I know you must be too."

 

"I am," Daryl admitted. "An' I hate ta leave ya, but -"

 

"Shhh," Beth silenced him, placing one slender finger softly against his lips. "I know why," she whispered, pressing herself closer into his embrace and briefly laying her head against the dampness of his shirt. "You better get into something dry before you go out there."

 

Daryl shrugged, reluctant to let her go. "Don't matter. Jus' gon' get wet again soon as I go out there."

 

"It does matter," Beth insisted, gently pulling from his embrace. The fire illuminated her soft features, concern for him brimming in her eyes, the failed attempt of a stern look. Her side ponytail hung loosely at her shoulder and Daryl mused how he still fought the urge to tug it free and comb his fingers through those honey colored locks.

 

Resigning to her will he dropped down on the bed and tugged off his boots, beginning to undress as Beth disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with a fluffy white towel. As he unbuttoned his flannel shirt and tugged it free, the wet fabric still fighting to cling to his skin, he felt the mattress sag as Beth crawled on the bed and knelt behind him. Leaning the weight of her body against him for balance, she cupped the back of his neck and gently pushed the towel into his hair, giving it her best effort to dry it efficiently. Daryl sighed, falling back against her, enjoying her touch and in complete awe of how the simple act of her drying his hair could feel so damn _intimate_.

 

When Beth was done with his hair, she moved down his back, gently swiping the towel against his damp scared skin before working back up to his neck. Her breasts pressing into his shoulder blades, she leaned over his shoulder, her hands continuing to push the towel down his chest and across the flat planes of his stomach. Daryl caught her hands, stopping them from continuing their sweet assault, capturing them in his larger ones. He could feel her quickening pulse where he held her wrists and was pleased to know she was just as affected as he. "I gotta go," he sighed, leaning his head back on her shoulder.

 

"I know," Beth replied, emitting her own deep sigh before kissing Daryl on his forehead and dropping backwards on the bed to watch him finish dressing.

 

"Be mornin' 'fore ya know it, an' I'll be wakin' ya up," Daryl offered to help sooth not only her disappointment, but his own as well.

 

Beth sat up in the bed and tucked her knees against her chest, as Daryl bent down to kiss her properly. "I uhhh, love you," he stammered quickly, not used to throwing around the phrase. _Ever._

 

"I know," Beth smiled, as Daryl grabbed up his crossbow and reached for the door knob. "You're gonna miss me so bad, Daryl Dixon," she teased him, her smile widening, then added, "I love you too."

 

Daryl couldn't help his involuntarily flinch as he closed the door behind him. She'd only meant to be playful, but Beth truly had no idea just how badly those simple words from her lips had affected him and would likely continue to do so for the rest of his life. Images of the porch at the shack, the moonshine, their talk, the fire, the funeral home, the dog, the car with the cross in the windshield, him running ... all flashed through his mind and he flinched again.

 

_"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."_

 

Daryl shook his head, dislodging the images and quietly crept out the back door.

 


	29. Your Life is Deadly Like A Loaded Gun, and You're Shaking Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are running high at the lodge again, and Daryl struggles with his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter. Not at what to say, but how to convey the emotional turmoil with the actions of the characters; specifically Daryl. I hope it came through as intended. I need to extend a special "thank you" to my fellow writer, Abby (abelinajt) for helping me work through through this. Got any questions about From the Ashes? My inbox on tumblr will be open all day - kitten1618x - Enjoy this beautiful Sunday, friends. Peace, Love and Bethyl ~ Lis
> 
> ps: I drew a lot of inspiration for this chapter from Rachel Taylors' "I will light a Fire". It's very Bethyl (Beth to Daryl).
> 
> "I will Light a Fire"
> 
> by: Rachel Taylor
> 
> You may say you're walking all by yourself  
> Have no one else.  
> Your life is deadly like a loaded gun, And you're shaking Love.  
> Don't shiver, Don't give up,  
> Don't quiver, You're enough.  
> You will be just fine  
> Tonight.
> 
> Baby when it's cold outside I will keep you warm Save you from the storm  
> I will light a Fire and the embers bright Will guide you through the night.  
> When it's cold outside I will light a fire. (Fire)  
> I will light a fire. (Fire) I will light a fire. (Fire)  
> When it's cold outside I will light a fire.
> 
> Keep your bright eyes looking up to the sky now. Chin up, be proud.  
> Walk strong like a soldier onto the Battleground.  
> Breathe in, breathe out.
> 
> Don't shiver, Don't give up,  
> Don't quiver, You're enough.  
> You will be just fine Tonight.
> 
> Baby when it's cold outside I will keep you warm Save you from the storm  
> I will light a Fire and the embers bright Will guide you through the night.  
> When it's cold outside I will light a fire. (Fire)  
> I will light a fire. (Fire) I will light a fire. (Fire)  
> I will light a fire.
> 
> You've been at the bottom Only survivin'.  
> You decide who you are now, I'm with you through everything.
> 
> Baby when it's cold outside I will keep you warm Save you from the storm  
> I will light a Fire and the embers bright Will guide you through the night.  
> When it's cold outside I will light a fire. (Fire)  
> I will light a fire. (Fire) I will light a fire. (Fire)  
> When it's cold outside I will light a fire.

_And miss her he did._

Immensely so, as he sat silently beside Tyrese keeping watch. Getting Sasha out of the barn and back into the house had been easier than Daryl had anticipated. With a snort and a seething look, she had gathered up her shit and stalked back to the lodge, ignoring her brothers offer of escorting her. Since then, Tyrese had been relatively quiet. Maybe it was because he knew Daryl wasn't one for idle chit chat, or maybe he was busy battling his own demons. Whatever the reason, Daryl appreciated the silence and used it to sort through his own thoughts.

As the night wore on, the storm intensified, bringing with it thunder and lightening that crackled as it lit up the night sky, illuminating the surrounding forest in a horrifying, yet serene way while the thunder boomed loudly in the distance. Daryl crouched in the hayloft, watching it intently, feeling oddly calm. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the rain. _Outdoor cat._

Tyrese swayed beside him, catching himself and muttering his apologies. The man was dead on his feet.

"Guess ya ain't been sleepin' much neither?" Daryl observed.

"Who does these days?" Tyrese answered, rubbing at his face vigorously.

_True enough._

"Why don't ya go in an' get some sleep? I've got this," Daryl offered.

"Nah man. I can't leave you-"

"Ain't doin' much good if ya can't keep yer eyes open," Daryl insisted. "Sun'll be up in just a bit. I got this."

"You sure?" Tyrese persisted.

"Get outta here," Daryl nodded. "Best ya check on Sasha anyway."

"Thanks Daryl," Tyrese mumbled, quickly snatching up his rifle and looping his hammer through his belt. "I owe you one."

Daryl stood, grabbing the gas lantern and followed Ty down the ladder that led up to the loft. Securing the barn doors behind him as he made his exit, Daryl slammed the heavy wooden plank back into place to keep the whipping winds from banging them open. Giving it a shake for good measure, he climbed back up the ladder and settled back into his crouching position, chewing the tip of his thumb while he scanned the surrounding area. Everything was quiet tonight. Except the raging storm.

Wanting to be alone and actually being alone were two different things, Daryl realized when time seemed to crawl and then seemingly stop altogether. He was itching to get back to Beth and it seemed downright comical after all he had shared with her today that tonight of all nights they'd be apart. And Daryl was tired. Exhausted, really. Crawling under the covers with Beth and shutting his eyes for a few hours were his immediate intentions as soon as the next watch came to relieve him. Tomorrow would undoubtably come with its new slew of bullshit and problems, but they could wait. They would have to.

Wasn't anything they couldn't handle anyway. Aside from whoever had been snooping around and the incessant rain, the secluded lodge had remained relatively safe. It occurred to Daryl for the second time in his life, that the drifter no longer had the desire to drift. The urge was stronger now than it had been at the funeral home, and especially now that the group was all back together. They where whole again. He wanted to settle. And not just for the winter, as was his first purpose, but indefinitely. Fortify. Build a life, a community, like they had started at the prison. Find survivors, bring them in, build more housing if they had to. Plant some crops and eek out a life. Glenn and Maggie were having a baby. Judith and Carl were comfortable and adjusting well. They had more than enough room, so why couldn't they just stay here? If Abraham and his pipe dream chasing band of merry men wanted to move along, then so be it. Sure, Abe and Rosita were great muscle to have around, but they had managed without them in the past and could do so again if need be.

Something moving in his peripheral vision jolted him from his thoughts. Highly alert now, Daryl squinted, straining his eyesight through the sheets of rain, hoping a well timed flash of lightening would cut him a break. It was moving too fast to be a Walker, he knew that much. Rising and pulling back just enough to keep himself hidden, Daryl peered over the edge of the oversized loft window, catching sight of the hooded figure once more before it ducked behind the side of the barn.

Cursing under his breath, Daryl moved as quickly and quietly as his feet would carry him, rushing to the loft ladder and descending, dropping when he was halfway down, his feet hitting the hay below with a muffled thud. Thankfully he had left the lamp lit, so he could see where he was going, or falling for that matter. Tossing his crossbow on a nearby hay bale, he grabbed the board barring the barn doors and lifted it, propping it gently against the wall to make the minimum amount of sound before reaching for his bow. Stepping on the end, with practiced efficiency, he loaded a bolt, pulling the string taught before moving forward with his crossbow trained ahead of him.

Pushing one of the doors slightly ajar, Daryl peeked outside before squeezing through the opening and in full hunter mode crept to the far side of the barn, intending to sneak up and pounce on his victim. As he rounded the corner, his target came into focus and quick as the lightening flashing in the sky above, Daryl charged, grabbing the intruder by the hood of their jacket and slamming them back hard against the side of the barn, his bolt ready to fly, pointed right in their face. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, his finger twitching on the trigger, Daryl found himself staring down his crossbow into the terrified eyes of the woman he loved.

"B-beth ...?" He stammered her name, unsure if he was hallucinating, but it was indeed her. Soaked to the bone and damn near tears, her chest rose and fell rapidly with her labored breathing.

He knew he should hug her, hold her, fold her in his arms and let her know she was alright but Daryl was trembling himself and it took all the energy he had left just to lower his crossbow.

_He had damn near killed her!_

Grabbing her none to gently by the hood of her jacket, he led her back to the barn entrance, trying to stifle the rage that was building deep within him. Guiding her through the doors, he gave her a light shove towards the wall. "Stay," he barked the order at her, pointing for emphasis and tossed his crossbow unceremoniously to the ground, as if he were angry with it, too.

Daryl yanked the barn door closed, his muscles straining against the force of the wind, then grabbed up the plank to secure it. Dropping it into place, he took a step back and kicked the door like a petulant child in the midst of a temper tantrum. Beth flinched with every aggressive move he made, stepping back and pressing herself against the barn wall, but she never averted her gaze.

He paced the barn floor, fighting the harsh words that were hanging on the tip of his tongue, so acidic he could taste their bitterness in his mouth. Hot, white seething rage, anger like he had never known, tore through every fiber of his being. "Tha hells wrong wit ya girl?" He finally yelled when he could hold it in no longer. "Ya stupid or somethin'? I coulda killed ya! Almost did!"

Beth remained silent, and for some reason that infuriated Daryl even more. He pushed a shaky hand through his wet hair, only then realizing that his entire body was shaking too. "Shit ain't a game," he cried, kicking the ground at his feet. "Tha hell were ya doin' out there?"

"Looking for you," Beth answered, finding her voice now that the initial shock was beginning to wear off. "The door was locked. I was walking around looking for another way to get -"

"Fer what?" Daryl cut her off, his patience thin as a sheet of paper.

"I - I had a nightmare," Beth stammered. Embarrassed at how foolish it sounded.

"Let's get this straight Greene, ya came creepin' outside in the dark when ya know there's some dick snoopin' 'round, cuz ya had a bad dream?" He spat, mocking her. The question was rhetorical, he really hadn't expected an answer, but her silence unnerved him all the same. "Answer me, dammit!" he yelled, his voice reverberating through the barn rafters.

Embarrassed and hurt, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, Beth finally fought back. "Stop yelling at me," she cried, her voice just as loud, echoing his.

"Do ya know how close ya were ta meetin' yer maker? If I hadn't hesitated ...if I'd a'just pulled that trigger ..." Daryl let his sentence drop and shook his head, unable to imagine his life again without Beth Greene. And if he had been the reason for it? _That would have killed him_. "Do ya know what that woulda done ta me?" Daryl growled, voicing his thoughts.

"But you didn't," Beth shot back.

"I almost did," Daryl said, beginning to pace again, like a caged tiger.

"That doesn't matter Daryl, I'm okay -"

"It does matter!" He screamed, assuredly angrier than he had ever been in his entire life at her callous dismissal of the seriousness of the situation. Clenching his fists at his sides, Daryl fought to regain control of his emotions. His temper flared hotter, like an inferno twisting deep within his gut, it burned him from the inside out, spreading and fighting to claw its way out. He was powerless to contain it as it consumed him. Unable to stop himself, his blinding rage fueling him forward on autopilot, he stomped towards Beth and slammed his fist into the barn wall, just scant inches from her, the force of his blow splintering the wood and bloodying his knuckles.

Beth gasped, cringing slightly, but still did not, or maybe could not, avert her gaze. It was then that Daryl caught a glimpse of himself, reflected in those big blue frightened orbs. He _knew_ this anger. _Recognized_ it, suddenly. He had seen it countless times growing up, usually being at the receiving end of it.

The frightened boy cowering in the corner while his dad whooped him with anything within reach, though usually it was his belt. The clink of the buckle as he unhooked it and slid it free. The whirring sound it made as it picked up speed, that moment of anticipation right before it struck, almost as painful as the lash itself, as it sliced through the air and bit into the tender flesh of his back. The beatings he had endured for being a pussy. For driving his brother away. For killing his mother. _It was always his fault_.

But Beth wasn't a little boy cowering in the corner. And he was not his father. He'd willingly cut of his arm before ever laying a hand on her.

Daryl shook his head violently, forcing the memories away. As the barn came back into focus, and the fear in her eyes finally registered, he realized he was no better than _him_ ...his father. Screwed in the head. His anger, a twisted family heirloom. The code of his DNA.

Disgusted with what he had done, with how far he had let his anger take him, Daryl took a shaky step back, and then another. Clutching his bloody hand against his chest, he turned suddenly and wretched in the hay, choking on bile until he emptied the contents of his stomach, while Beth looked on in horror.

"Don't," Daryl sobbed, raising his hand up as if to ward her away as Beth took a cautious step toward him. Shame engulfed him, almost as suffocating as the rage, and Daryl doubled over again, dry heaving until he thought the veins in his neck would burst from the pressure. When the spasms in his stomach finally subsided, Daryl straightened himself, swiping at the moisture under his eyes and tried to muster any dignity he had left. If he even deserved _that_.

Beth took another step forward, ignoring his protests, as she flung herself into his arms and held onto him tightly, as if by sheer will alone she could fix him. Daryl stood like a statue in her embrace, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, blood dripping from his throbbing knuckles. His first instinct was to push her away. He had almost fooled himself into believing he was worthy of her. _But how could he be after tonight?_

"Don't you dare," she whispered against the front of his shirt, as if she could read his mind and knew exactly what his thoughts were. Her breath was hot in direct contrast to the cold, wet fabric plastered to his skin, and it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"I mean it Daryl," her tone became more demanding as she clung to the front of his shirt, bunching the fabric between her fingertips. "Don't go backwards. Not after everything we've been through. I still want this. Us ... I love you ...and I _know_ you love me."

Her words stung. They weren't meant to, but they did. They cut him right to the core, he who was so undeserving of them. Maybe not indefinitely, but for right now - for this moment in time, he simply did not warrant her love or compassion ...and he _hated himself_ for that. It was a constant battle, this push and pull of emotions. The high of rising above the bullshit only to be knocked down again and again. He fought so hard to not live in the shadow of his past, fought to overcome it, fought to forget it. He was _always fighting_ and he was exhausted from the effort. _Fight. Battle. Fight. Battle._ Daryl was war weary. He fought the dead. He fought the living, but the battle that raged within him was the one that wore him down and chipped away at his soul.

_" ...you have to put it away or it kills you ..."_

_Put it away._ Daryl sighed, finally wrapping his arms around her, giving himself over to the love and forgiveness she offered, but hating himself for that, too. Not for the fact that he craved it, _but that he needed it ... to feel whole._ Daryl Dixon, who never relied on anyone for anything.

But Beth Greene was his light at the end of the tunnel. He needed her, or his world would go dark again, and Daryl wasn't sure he could survive that a second time around. And being the one to snuff out her light? It would have _killed_ him.

"I love you too," he murmured against the golden crown of her hair. To say otherwise would be a blatant lie. Deserving of it or not, it was the truest thing he'd ever felt. Beth Greene was endgame. The only woman he had ever loved in this way, and there would never be another.

"Know I'd never hurt ya, right?" Daryl nearly choked on the words, hating himself more that he had to say them, but feeling it was necessary.

Beth nodded, giving Daryl a mouthful of her hair as she released the death grip on his shirt and wound her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Her hands slid up under his shirt to caress his scars, the constant reminder of who he was, and why. He felt dirty, letting her touch them after what had just transpired and reached behind himself to catch her hands.

"They don't define you, Daryl." Her tone was certain, uncompromising. She kissed him then, pushing herself up on her tippy-toes.

It wasn't her usual passive, gentle affection. Beth's kiss was fierce, forceful even, her tongue overpowering his as she struck her own claim, exploring the inner contours of his mouth. She shook her hands free of his grasp and sent them exploring as well. They traveled up his arms, over his tense shoulders and settled on his hips. As she steadied, he could feel her trembling, her body belying the boldness she tried to convey.

"Touch me," she whispered against his lips.

"I can't," Daryl shook his head, his fear keeping him in check.

"You _can_ ," Beth insisted, her hands traveling upwards to cup his face gently in her palms, forcing him to look at her. "I need you," she breathed, brushing her lips against his. " _We_ need this."

"I can't," Daryl repeated, his voice thick with emotion, feeling like he was on the verge of tears.

"Please?" She coaxed him, taking his hand and pulling it between their bodies to rest it on her breast, a satisfied sigh escaping her parted lips upon feeling the weight of his hand on her. "Don't make me beg."

Daryl groaned, his traitorous body responding immediately to her passionate ambush. Of its own volition, his thumb grazed over her nipple, already tight and straining through the wet fabric of his flannel shirt that she was wearing. _She was right_ , he needed _this_. Needed _her._ Needed to loose himself in the solace that her body could offer. Needed to be one with the woman he loved. And love her he did, so God damned much it was almost physically painful. He knew he was fighting a losing battle - _always fighting_ , so why bother?

Grasping her chin in his hand, he sought her eyes, his own inquiring, needing permission once more. He had to be sure it was what she really wanted and not just an attempt to make him feel secure.

Her honest blue eyes met his, moist from emotion. "Make love to me," she insisted, as a lone tear slid down her cheek.

With a pained groan Daryl pressed her back against the barn wall, his bleeding knuckles all but forgotten as pushed her sopping wet jacket down her arms, dropping it to the hay at their feet and captured her lips with his own. With his kiss, he unleashed all his pent up emotions, centering them all on his passions, needing to convey what he felt through taste and touch alone, as words had never been his strong suit.

When he finally drug his lips from Beth's, it was by necessity to breathe and that alone. Panting, Daryl's eyes never leaving hers, he tugged the neck of her oversized shirt down, exposing the creamy skin of her throat and shoulder, his mouth literally watering with the need to taste her salty sweet flesh. Beth moaned in anticipation her hands weaving their way into Daryl's wet hair, curling her fingers around it and tugging it gently as she tilted her neck back, granting him full access to devour her. His hands and mouth were everywhere, traveling her heated flesh with exquisite tenderness. Memorizing her every curve, her every hollow ...In her damp tangled hair, her forehead, the tip of her nose, her throat, the curve of her jaw. He was so hard and wanted desperately to be inside of her, but her body was a temple, and he would worship her first.

Dropping to his knees before her, he grabbed the waistband of the ridiculous polka dot pajama paints she wore, and slid them down her hips, only then noticing that she was barefoot. A unexpected pang of guilt hit him in the stomach, that her nightmare was so bad that it drove her out into the stormy night with no shoes to find him. He would ask her about it later, but first he would love her. Her panties followed, as he hooked his thumbs inside them and slowly drug them down her silken legs and tossed them to the side with her ugly pants. Ducking his head, Daryl kissed her pubic bone just above the golden patch of curls, then dipped his head lower, finally tasting her _there_ , where she throbbed and craved him. They moaned in unison, Beth throwing her head back and fisting his hair. She was already wet, her juices flowed hot on his tongue, feeding and fueling his desire, his burning need for her.

Growing bold in the thoroughs passion, Beth untangled one of her hands from Daryl's hair and slid it between them, pushing herself open, parting her petals like a flower and guiding him to her pulsing core. Daryl smirked up at her and obliged, flicking his tongue against the nub before sucking it in between his lips, grabbing Beth's thighs to steady her as she began to rock her hips against his face, working to release her building orgasm.

"Daryl," she breathed, "please God ...stop." Her head lolled from side to side as Beth grunted and groaned and pressed herself harder against his mouth. "No, _don't stop_ ...right there," she panted.

Keeping her tempo, he moved his head lower and pushed his tongue deep inside of her, nearly exploding inside of his pants as she clamped her thighs hard against his face and screamed his name with her release. Daryl savored his victory, sliding his tongue up and down once more before withdrawing it and smacking his lips, as a trembling Beth literally crumbled to the ground in front of him, her legs no longer able to hold her up.

She took only a moment to catch her breath and then shoved his shoulder, knocking him off balance and onto his ass, her anxious hands already attacking his belt buckle, the brush of her fingers causing friction through his pants. His erection was damn near close to painful as it strained against the coarse wet fabric of his jeans, wanting to be free of the cumbersome barrier that soon Daryl was lifting his hips and assisting her, aching for Beth's touch. He sprung to life in her hands, as she curled her fingers around him, then she surprised Daryl by bending down and flicking her tongue against the tip of his shaft. It twitched in her grasp, a reflex, as Daryl sucked in a deep breath, holding it, as Beth explored this newfound power she wielded.

Patiently he watched her, slowly exhaling and leaning back on his elbows as she lowered her head again and slowly drew the tip in her mouth, bobbed back up and flicked her tongue against it once more, eliciting a deep throaty moan from Daryl in response. As her apprehension eased, she grew bolder, taking him further into her mouth and Daryl fought the instinct to buck his hips upwards, not wanting to hurt or frighten her. Reaching forward, he smoothed the hair back from her face, and chuckled at seeing her eyes were closed. Upon hearing him laugh, she froze and then quickly released him, her cheeks staining pink with embarrassment.

"Go on girl, get it. It's yers," Daryl encouraged her, grasping his shaft at the base and gently guiding the tip back to her lips.

Beth kept her eyes open this time, sucking him slowly back into her mouth while holding Daryl's gaze when she realized it turned him on more. Up and down she suckled and licked, perfecting her craft until Daryl stopped her, no longer able to keep his passions in check. Reaching for her arms, he tugged her on top of him, not wanting her to lay in the scratchy hay and entwining their fingers, supported her weight while Beth straddled his thighs, brazenly rubbing her sex against his.

Daryl dropped his head back in the hay and clenched his teeth through a groan. "Go on darlin', ya know what ta do," he encouraged her, Knowing he couldn't hold out much longer against her torturous assault.

That was all the invitation Beth needed, as she rocked her hips forward and slid down his shaft, sheathing him deep within her and joining them as one. Their muffled cries coming in unison as pleasure wreaked havoc on their senses.

Bending his knees, Daryl grasped Beth's hips as she braced her hands on his chest for balance, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt once more while she rode him. He let her set the pace and she wasn't in any hurry, moving her hips slowly against him as she pushed them both achingly closer to their release. When Daryl began to feel her tighten around him, he pushed his hips up into her, meeting her thrust for thrust, increasing the friction so they could come together. He slid his hand up her side, gently cupping the back of her neck and drew her face down to his for a kiss, wanting to be joined in _every possible way_ as they reached completion.

"I love you," Beth whispered against his lips, then moaned into his mouth as their tongues collided and her body jerked, her muscles constricting around him, as she reached and then plunged over the precipice of her orgasm.

"I love yo- _ohhhh_ " Daryl groaned his own release, pushing his hips upward as he came hot and hard, joining her in a state of euphoria. She collapsed upon his chest then, his arms enfolding her as they both slowly came down off of their high and their breathing quieted.

The sound of familiar voices just outside the barn jolted them both into a sitting position. Irritated at the sudden intrusion, Daryl jerked his jeans up over his hips, as Beth scrambled through the hay, finding her pajama bottoms and quickly tugging them on, then stuffing her panties in the pocket of her jacket.

Daryl grabbed up his crossbow, and looked to Beth, who seemed pretty much together except for the flush in her cheeks, and her bare feet. There was nothing he could do about either, so he headed to the barn doors and lifted the plank, just as Glenn and Rick shoved the doors open.

"Bout time," Daryl remarked, trying to remain casual. He fiddled with the strap of his crossbow as Rick and Glenn stepped inside the barn.

"Oh, I don't know," Rick answered, hands on his hips, a smirk plastered on his face. "I'd say our timing was pretty good," he added, leaning forward and plucking a piece of hay from Daryl's hair and pinching it between his fingertips. "Mornin' Beth," he called, his smirking lips spreading into a full blown smile as he dropped the straw to the barn floor.

Beth blushed crimson, but returned the smile and extended a good morning to Glenn as well.

"Dude, ummm ..."Glenn stammered, doing his best not to crack a smile, but he was fighting a losing battle, as the corners of his mouth began turning upwards. "You ummm, missed a -" he pointed towards another wayward straw stuck in Daryl's hair. "Piece," he finished.

"Shut up," Daryl snapped.

Glenn nodded, tightening his lips, but his eyes were still dancing with laughter.

"C'mon," Daryl motioned to Beth, waiting as patiently as he could while she pulled on her jacket, although he just wanted to bolt from all the awkwardness of the moment. He glanced outside, avoiding their eyes, feigning interest in the weather. The storm had passed but it was still drizzling.

"Where's Ty?" Rick asked.

"Should be sleepin'," Daryl replied, thankful for the shift in topic.

Rick nodded, his eyes still alight with amusement.

He knew they were just foolin', but having taken all he was willing to be subjected to this morning, Daryl was ready to go. Swinging his crossbow around the front of his body, he hunched down a bit. "Jump up" he told her, motioning for Beth to climb up on his back, not wanting her to make the trek back to lodge barefooted.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Beth obliged, hoisting herself up on Daryl's back as he grabbed her under the knees and stood back up to his full height.

"Seriously?" Glenn asked as Daryl started walking towards the lodge.

"Yep," Beth called over her shoulder with a smile. "It's a serious piggyback."


	30. Run from the one who comes to find you, wait for the night that comes to hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seemingly normal day unfolds into something more sinister. Much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late guys - my editor had a rough week and while he kindly takes time out of his busy schedule to help me perfect the story I'm trying to tell, it's obviously not his first priority. We love you, Ben! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this next installment, because I'm gearing up to put you all in a world of angst and pain ... tee hee hee ;) I have to, I'm sorry that I'm not sorry ... xoxo, Bethyl on ~ Lis

 

"Oh no ..."

Beth's distraught voice, a hushed whisper, reached through the veil of his slumber and pulled Daryl towards consciousness. He blinked his eyes sleepily, confused in his half asleep state. The sun was too bright and his head ached something awful. His hand too, Daryl realized, wincing when he tried to flex his stiff swollen fingers.

"Beth," he mumbled, his voice thick and heavy, laced with sleep.

"Nooo," she cried, jumping up from the bed and darting for the bathroom.

Daryl propped himself up on his elbow, now mildly concerned on what had Beth hightailing it to the bathroom. He cleared his throat and called after her, "Beth, what's wrong?"

_Silence._

Exhausted, concerned, and now mildly annoyed, Daryl heaved a heavy sigh and rolled himself out of bed, cursing when his feet hit the cold floor. Rubbing his good hand vigorously over his face, he padded quickly towards the bathroom door Beth left slightly ajar in her haste.

Respecting her privacy, he leaned and braced his good hand on the door frame and called through the crack, "What's goin' on? Y'alright?"

"Go away Daryl," Beth snapped, kicking the door shut in his face.

With a grunt, Daryl hunched forward, laying his forehead against the cool paneling of the closed door. "Fine," he grumbled, wishing his head would stop pounding and his eyes didn't feel like they were about to bulge out of their sockets.

Pushing himself away from the door, he turned to drop another log on the fire, irritated at the coldness of the room and the fact that he had drug himself out of bed to get a door shut in his face. The simple task proved to be quite difficult one-handed, and that irritated him too. A little maneuvering and soon the fire was rejuvenated, crackling as the flames began licking at the new log and chasing away the chill. Daryl turned up one corner of his mouth in a satisfied smile, pleased to have at least one victory this morning.

He took a seat at the foot of the bed, scooting the dog over with his arm. Willy whined, pushing his paws out in front of him, and arched his back into a long stretch, then took a seat beside Daryl, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as usual.

"Yer'n ugly sonofabitch, y'know that?" Daryl grumbled, scratching the mutt behind his ear, as Beth finally emerged from the bathroom.

Avoiding his gaze, she yanked open one of the dresser drawers and after retrieving a pair of panties, stepped into them, pulling them up her shapely legs.

"Ya gon' tell me what that was about?" He asked, eyebrows raised, when it was clear she wasn't going to share willingly.

"Nope," she replied, rummaging through drawers as if she was searching for something. "It was nothing. Do you remember where I put the clean sheets?"

"Nope," Daryl answered just as nonchalantly. "Don't care neither," he added, rising from the bed and joining her by the dresser, growing impatient, and he wasn't a very patient person to begin with, least of all this morning. His heart sank as it occurred to him suddenly that she might be upset with him over what transpired in the barn.

"Beth look ..." His voice trailed off as he pushed a shaky hand through his hair, unsure where to start. "Last night ..."

"I just wanna find the clean sheets Daryl," Beth interrupted him. "Everything's fine okay?" Pushing herself up on her tip-toes, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"What's wrong wit these ones?" Daryl asked, grabbing the corner of the blankets on her side of the bed.

"Daryl wait ..." Beth reached for his arm to stop him but it was too late as he gave them a yank, revealing a small crimson stain against the old yellowed bed sheets.

Her cheeks flushed pink and then bright red.

"This is what yer worried 'bout?" Daryl asked her, relief flooding through him, he couldn't help but chuckle a bit, then wished he could take it back when she turned two shades redder.

Daryl dropped the blanket and plopped down on the bed, catching Beth by her hand and pulling her in front of him. "After all tha shit we've been through, all tha shit we've seen, yer worried 'bout _that_?"

Beth shrugged her shoulders.

"C'mere," he tugged her down into his lap and gently tucked a stray blonde strand behind her ear. "Ain't gotta be embarrassed. Had a mom, ya know? Wasn't hatched. Not a damn expert or nuthin' but this is good, right?"

Unfortunately Beth remained quiet, leaving Daryl to continue awkwardly stumbling over his words. "I mean, we ain't exactly been _careful_ ..."

Beth nodded, and finally spoke. "We should probably start."

"Yeh," Daryl agreed, thankful that they were on the same page. If anything, what had transpired in the barn last night only strengthened his resolve that he was not parent material. He had no good role models growing up, and while he knew he'd never lay a hand on his own kid, he was probably destined to be the same shitty father he and Merle had.

"We'll figure somethin' out," he promised her.

"Should figure out something to do with this too," Beth said, lifting Daryl's bruised hand up to her mouth and gently brushing her lips against it.

"I'll rub some dirt on it. It'll be good." Daryl leaned backwards on the bed, hauling Beth with him and settled her in the crook of his arm. "What was it about?" He asked her, brushing his fingertips lightly across her shoulder.

"What was what about?"

"Yer dream."

Beth drew in a deep breath and fiddled with the button on Daryl's oversized flannel shirt she was still wearing. "Remember those guys you told me about yesterday? Len and Joe?"

Daryl nodded, the stubble on his chin brushing against the top of her head, his arms instinctively tightening around her.

"I dreamt that they found us at the funeral home and that they ..." Beth's voice grew quieter, meeker, as she continued, "... _did stuff_ ...to me. And when you tried to stop them, they beat you to death right before my eyes. Made me watch ..."

It was Daryl's turn to suck in a deep breath.

"I shouldn't have come outside last night," Beth admitted. She had stopped fiddling with the buttons and laid her palm flat on Daryl's chest. "I'm sorry."

Daryl's heart constricted. She was right, she shouldn't have come outside, but he'd only be lying to himself if he said he didn't understand _why_ she had sought him out. He remembered the dreams that had plagued his sleep, even after she had returned. _Nightmares, actually_. All the crazy shit he'd thought had become her fate when she'd disappeared. So vivid and real. Nights that he crawled out of wherever he was bunking down and went to check on her just to make sure she was safe ...that she was really there. He understood that fear all to well.

"I ain't never gon' let anythin' happen to you," he vowed, pressing a kiss to the top of her golden mane. "Shouldn't 'ave told ya 'bout them bastards."

"No, I'm glad you did," Beth replied, pulling her head out of the crook of his arm, and turning to face him, resting her chin on his chest. She turned her big doe eyes on him, "I wish you would open up to me more often. Sometimes I feel like I barely know anything about you."

"Y'know more than most," he answered honestly.

Beth seemed satisfied to accept that for the time being. Maybe he would share more of his past with her ...someday. Today was not that day. He was granted a reprieve as Willy whimpered and rolled over, his tongue searching for its next victim and finding Daryl's scruffy cheek.

"Ugh gross, ya damn mutt," Daryl shoved him away and swiped at his face while Beth laughed and patted the dogs raggedy head.

"Awww, he didn't mean it," she told Willy as he blinked down at her with his one eye. "He loves you too."

"Tha hell I do," Daryl snorted, pulling himself back up into a sitting position and reaching into one of the dresser drawers for a clean pair of pants. "What ya got goin' on fer ta'day?" He asked Beth, as he drug his pants on, followed by his boots.

"Laundry duty with Tara and Noah" Beth replied, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed. "And then I promised Rick I'd keep an eye on Judith while he and Carl go check the snares. You?"

Daryl shrugged into a clean shirt then grabbed his vest. "Got some more wood ta chop. We've been burnin' through it like crazy and it ain't even winter."

"Ah yes, winter. I hope it snows," Beth stood and studied her reflection in the dressers' tall mirror. "Judith should have a chance to play in the snow."

Daryl smiled, "Ya say that now, but we ain't far south no more. Ain't gonna be no little dustin' up this way."

She pulled the elastic band out of her hair and frowned at her reflection. "Even better. How else can you make a proper snowman?"

"Dunno," Daryl shrugged. "Never made one." Then asked, "Somethin' wrong?" as he watched her continue to frown at herself in the mirror.

It was Beth's turn to shrug. "Just girl stuff. I look a mess. I know it's silly, but sometimes I just miss being pretty ...miss being _a girl_."

Daryl moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle and leaned his chin on her shoulder. "I dunno, ya ain't _that_ bad ta look at."

"Go chop wood Mr. Dixon," Beth laughed, pushing his face away and shrugging out of his grasp, but not before she kissed his scratchy cheek. "And be careful with your hand."

"Yeh," Daryl pat his good hand on the pocket of his vest. "Got some pain meds. Headin' to tha kitchen ta chase em' wit some coffee. I'll pour ya a cup."

"Since when do you drink coffee?" Beth asked, as she began unbuttoning her nightshirt.

"Since ya don't ever let me sleep no more," Daryl answered, reaching for his crossbow and whistling for the dog to follow. If Beth was undressing, it was time to go. _He was only human, dammit._ "Sheets'r in tha closet," he added before he closed the door.

Rick, Glenn and Maggie were sitting in the dining room, Judith bouncing on Rick's lap, as Daryl passed through to the kitchen to let the dog out the back door. After Willy bounded out into the yard, Daryl grabbed two mugs, spooned some sugar in them and topped them off with coffee before taking an empty seat near Glenn, laying his crossbow beside him. He placed one mug in front of the empty chair to his left and brought the other one to his lips, blowing on the steaming liquid before he took a swig and winched as it burned a fiery path down his throat and settled like a rock in his gut.

Rick eyed him, traces of a smile tugging at his lips. "You look like hell. You even get any sleep?"

"Ya ain't exactly lookin' like tha cover of G.Q.," Daryl shot back. "But no, not really."

Maggie, who was busy pushing her spoon around in her bowl of instant oatmeal, instead of eating it, rolled her eyes. "Where's Beth?"

"She'll be along," Daryl pulled a convenience pack of Tylenol out of his pocket and tore it open with his teeth, musing at the idea that _mostly_ everyone just associated the two of them as a unit now.

"What happened to your hand?" She asked, scooping up a spoonful and then changing her mind and plopping it back into the bowl.

"It ain't nothin'," Daryl shrugged, tossing the pills in his mouth and titling his head back to swallow them. "Just knocked em' against somethin' ". It wasn't _exactly_ a lie.

"Babe, can you please just eat something?" Glenn turned to Maggie, growing tired of watching her mutilate her breakfast instead of eating it.

Maggie shook her head adamantly and finally dropped her spoon. "No, I'm sorry, I can't. Not this," she finished, pushing the bowl away from her. "The smells makin' me sick."

"Should nibble on some saltines," Carol suggested as she breezed through the dining room. "They'll settle your stomach. And sip water," she threw over her shoulder as she disappeared into the kitchen.

"Do something," Glenn added with a defeated sigh.

"Stop raining?" Daryl asked, shifting the topic and giving Maggie a reprieve.

"Yeah," Rick nodded. "Think the storm blew in a bit of a warm front. It ain't too bad out there," he answered Daryl, tossing him the dishtowel Judith was gnawing the corner off of. "Wrap that up," he gestured to Daryl's bruised knuckles.

"Yeh, I prefer my bandages baby slobber free," Daryl tossed the rag back. "Thanks anyway."

"There's some gauze bandages in the hall linen closet," Carol said returning, taking a seat aside of Maggie and laying some saltine crackers down in front of her. "Nibble," she instructed her, smiling at Glenn before bringing her own coffee mug to her mouth.

"Thanks," Daryl dipped his head in Carol's direction, hoisting himself up and shouldering his bow. _Back to the ol' grind_.

He headed towards the exit, as Glenn's voice called him back.

"Hey Daryl ...Think I can get a serious piggyback later ...ya know, if you have time?" Glenn smiled smugly from ear to ear, pleased with his own cleverness.

Daryl pursed his lips, fighting the urge to laugh, unlike Rick who brazenly chuckled, then cleared his throat and tried to act serious, his eyes still alight with amusement.

"No, but yer gonna catcha serious ass kickin' if ya don't watch yer mouth."

Maggie and Carol exchanged confused looks, but Daryl didn't stick around long enough for the explanation. He had shit to do and being the butt of a running joke this morning, wasn't one of them. Stopping at the hall closet long enough to grab some bandages and crudely wrap his knuckles, Daryl was finally stepping out onto the lodge porch. Members of the group were already scattered around the property. Abe and Michonne at the main gate, Tyrese talking with Father Gabriel back by the barn, Rosita and Noah on foot patrol. Eugene and Carl sat on the porch steps, Eugene leaning over Carl's shoulder as they discussed the events of the comic book Carl was reading for the hundredth time.

"C'mon," Daryl called to Carl as he passed them on his way down the stairs. "Got work ta do. Need ta finish movin' tha wood."

Carl stood, rolling up his comic book and stuffing it in the back pocket of his faded blue jeans and followed Daryl around the side of the lodge, Eugene in tow.

"I think I may be of assistance," Eugene offered his help, struggling to keep up with Daryl's long strides.

"Long as yer daddy don't come an' holler at me," Daryl nodded. "Carl can show you where we're stackin' it." He dropped his crossbow to the grass and yanked the axe from the log he'd left it in and got straight to work.

Daryl was splitting wood as fast as Carl and Eugene could carry it as the sun crept higher into the sky. The pain meds hadn't really kicked in, but after throbbing for what seemed like hours, his hand had finally gone numb. Rolling his shoulders, Daryl lowered the axe and swiped the sweat from his brow, watching as Eugene made his way back for his next load. Daryl had to hand it to him, the man had cut a shitload of time off of the task he and Carl had taken on.

Eugene picked up a piece of wood then paused and turned to Daryl. "While I will not apologize for biology one-o-one and simple human nature, I will apologize for not being more discreet while appreciating your lady-friends' assets," he declared, his words flowing a mile a minute. "I was unawares you were in a committed relationship. I'll do my best not to offend you in the future."

_Committed relationship_. Is that what they called it? Daryl snorted, the corner of his mouth tilting into a smirk, it was a lousy apology, but Daryl wasn't good with apologies either, and he had to admit the guy had guts. "Yer'a funny guy, Eugene."

Eugene looked thoughtful. "I am?"

"No," Daryl shook his head, and slapped him on the shoulder, not missing Eugene's nervous flinch when he raised his arm. "But we're good."

"Good," Eugene repeated, going back to filling his arms with firewood.

A flash of blue on the porch grabbed his attention. "Uh huh," Daryl dropped the axe, snatched up his crossbow, and let his feet carry him back towards the lodge, Eugene all but forgotten.

Golden hair unbound and blowing in the cool breeze, toned legs stuffed into her worn cowboy boots, Beth stood cradling Judith in her arms, a vision in the sundress with the cornflower blue cabbage roses. Her torn and tattered gray cardigan she wore to ward away the chill, and the belt she holstered her weapons in still hanging on her hips, stood as stark reminders of the world they lived in now, but did nothing to detract from her beauty. _The last pretty girl .._

Seeing him approach, she smiled, the blue of her eyes intensified by the hue of the dress. "I was just about to call some a ya'll in for lunch."

Daryl smiled sheepishly, suddenly shy. Stopping at the foot of the porch steps, he toed the dirt at his feet with his boots, and scratched an invisible itch at the back of his neck. He knew she'd look good in the dress - it's why he'd gone back for it after he saw her admiring it that day on their run when they found Noah. He took it knowing she would not, because it wasn't practical. Now he stood here, mouth hanging open catching flies, words literally stalled dead in his throat, trying to tell her she looked beautiful.

"You look pretty Beth," Carl stole his thunder, as he bounded up the porch steps and into the lodge, calling "I'm starved" over his shoulder.

"You do," Daryl grumbled as he took the steps two at a time. Checking to make sure no one was looking, he pressed a quick kiss against the smooth creamy skin of her cheek.

"Thanks," Beth blushed, eyeing Daryl coyly. "Ya know, I looked and looked and couldn't find those bed sheets."

"Coulda sworn they were in there," Daryl answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Throwing his arm over her shoulders, he began to lead them towards the front door when a cry rang out in the field, freezing them both in their tracks. Daryl stopped and turned, his arm sliding from Beth's shoulders as he instinctively reached for his crossbow and took a protective stance in front of her and Judith.

"Over there," Beth said, pointing across the field at Tara who was running full speed towards the lodge, a rifle cradled in her arms, Rosita not far behind her.

The commotion drew the group, most of them stopping whatever it was they were doing, they converged around the porch, waiting for Tara and Rosita to catch their breath.

Panting, Tara bent at the waist, drawing air into her lungs and pushed the rifle into Rick's arms. "It's Sasha's."

"We found it propped against a tree, just outside the property line by the woods," Rosita explained. "We did a quick search of the area but didn't want to go in too deep without alerting you guys."

"Sasha?" Tyrese did his best to remain calm, but there was fear behind his eyes.

Tara shook her head no. "We didn't see her."

"She wouldn't just leave her rifle and go into the woods," Tyrese reasoned, his voice cracked with emotion.

Rick rubbed his jaw, and squinted in the direction of the tree line. "No, I don't think she would." He turned to Daryl, his expression hopeful. "Can you track her?"

Daryl nodded. "Jus' need ta know exactly where they found that," he pointed at the rifle.

"She finally fly the coup?" Abe asked, shaking his head in disappointment as he rounded the lodge, late to the gathering. "I told you all - "

"You shut your damn mouth!" Tyrese bellowed, taking a bold step towards Abraham, his fist raised.

"Boy, I will smack the stupid outta ya, raisin' your damn hand at me," Abe barked back.

"Cut it out!" Rick hollered, raising his voice over both of theirs. "We do not handle a problem by turning on each other."

Tyrese was the first to concede, taking a step back and lowering his fist to his side, Carol flanking him with a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Where's Glenn and Maggie?" Beth asked, worriedly scanning the crowd for the only two who weren't present, aside from Sasha.

"They followed the creek," Carol explained, as she pointed to the stream connected to the pond. "They were fishing. In case we don't catch anything in the snares."

"Someone needs to find them," Rick ordered. "Bring them back. I don't want us all spread out until we find Sasha. And we _will_ find Sasha," Rick stated matter of factly, making eye contact with Tyrese.

"I'll go," Michonne offered, already stepping out of the huddle and heading towards the pond.

"Wait," Ricks voice halted her. "Someone should go with you."

"I can," Carl volunteered, stepping forward.

"You stay with Beth and Judith," Rick shook his head no.

"He'll be fine with me," Michonne interjected, before Carl had the chance to voice his argument and after a moments consideration, Rick conceded with a nod.

"I'll stay on watch," Carol offered. "Noah can help me. Rosita and Tara can watch the back."

"Alright," Rick ordered, "Daryl, Tyrese and Abe, you're with me. Everyone else in the house," he ordered, slinging Sasha's rifle onto his back. Leaning to place a kiss on Judith's fuzzy head, and patting Carl on the back before he started off with Michonne, Rick turned to Carol," I've got the walkie. You radio if there's an issue."

"Will do," Carol nodded, already herding Noah towards the front gate.

"Now wait a damn minute," Abe interjected, pointing at Eugene. "That man right there is precious cargo and needs to have someone capable keeping tabs on him if I ain't around."

"He can stay with me," Beth announced, shifting Judith to her other hip.

Abe stroked his mustache, "Now I appreciate the offer there darlin', and I'm sure you're real handy with some pampers and a ninny bottle, but the operative word was capable."

"I _am_ capable," Beth shot back with a saccharine sweet smile, stepping in front of Daryl and his escalating agitation.

"Beth _is_ very capable," Rick spoke up, backing Beth's word. "She was out on the road alone with Gabriel and kept them both alive." He nodded at Beth, a look of familial appreciation. "I trust her with my daughters' life."

Abe grunted. "Fine. But you," he pointed a meaty finger at Eugene, "stay inside the damn lodge."

Eugene nodded in reply, moving a few steps closer to the porch. With the plans in place, everyone was ready to move.

"Show us," Rick said to Tara, following her lead as she began guiding them to the spot.

His gut twisting with apprehension, Daryl hopped off of the porch and followed closely behind Rick, heading towards the tree line. He stole a nervous glance back to Beth who was still standing on the porch clutching Judith, not bothering to hide the worry etched on her face.

Their eyes met. _Locked._

Suddenly Beth was handing Judith off to Father Gabriel and half stumbling down the porch stairs as fast as her legs could carry her. She closed the distance between them quickly, giving little thought or care to who was watching, and threw herself into Daryl's arms.

"Just wanted a proper goodbye this time," she whispered, laying her cheek against his chest.

"I hate goodbyes," Daryl whispered back, resting his chin against her hair, his own arms tightening around her ... _everyone watching be damned._

* * *

It was a boot. Tattered and worn, it had seen better days. Lonely and only one half of a whole pair, it sat upright on the fallen log, very obviously out of place.

"The hell?" Abe loudly put to words what everyone was thinking, as he bent to retrieve it.

Tyrese's eyes widened in horror. "It's hers," he confirmed, reaching to take it from Abraham.

They didn't have to go very far to find its counterpart, laying sideways on a bed of pine needles. Rick picked it up, as Daryl scanned the ground, his trained eyes searching for clues and finding them.

"She ain't alone," Daryl looked up from where he was crouched on the forest floor, confirming everyone's worst fear.

Rick drug an agitated hand down his face, letting it rest on his chin. "How many?"

"Two. Maybe three," Daryl answered, pointing out the disturbance to the ground and surrounding brush.

"Walkers?" Tyrese asked frantically.

"Naw," Daryl shook his head. "They ain't draggin' their feet." Raising himself up, he began moving again. "Let's hope they're friendly," he added, continuing to track the trail.

"Highly unlikely," Abe spat, caressing the trigger of his rifle. "Something stinks ta high hell and it ain't Eugene's feet." He took a step forward and stumbled, letting out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

He was right. No one said anything ...there wasn't a need to.

They trudged on, Daryl stopping every few feet to examine their surroundings, making sure they stuck to the trail. After awhile, it became obvious that whomever had taken Sasha wasn't even trying to cover their tracks.

"This looks ..." Rick paused, his hand resting on his gun holster, fingers twitchy.

"Deliberate," Daryl finished for him. _Like a twisted trail of breadcrumbs_ , he thought to himself.

Rick nodded. "How far out do you think we are?" He asked, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder.

" 'Bout a half a'mile," Daryl answered, his eyes falling on a belt that was dangling from a tree branch up ahead. Dread churning like indigestion in his stomach, he reached up and yanked it down, not needing confirmation from Tyrese that it was Sasha's. Every instinct inside of him telling him to turn around, Daryl kept moving forward. If it was someone he loved out here, he'd keep going. Tyrese deserved no less. He would keep going for Sasha too.

They continued on for awhile in silence. Whether it was because they wanted to maintain stealth or they were too afraid to voice their concerns, Daryl didn't know nor care, he was just tired of losing people and was determined to find her. The farther into the mountains they headed, the thicker the brush and the harder the terrain, which explained the lack of Walkers. The tall eastern white pine trees above them stretched for the skies, blocking out the sunlight, casting their shadows on the already dimly lit woods.

"We're likely out of walkie range now," Rick informed them, his brow furrowing as he glanced over his shoulder for the hundredth time.

"Michonne and Carl prob'ly brought Glenn and Maggie back by now," Daryl offered, more to calm his his own fears.

"Do we even know how long she's been gone?" Abe asked. It was a valid question. It seemed as though they'd been walking for hours.

"Last I saw her was this morning after breakfast when she went on a perimeter check," Tyrese answered solemnly. "I shoulda looked in on her ..."

"Ain't yer fault Ty," Daryl sympathized, understanding the burden he carried probably more than anyone.

"Tell me that if we find my sister alive."

" _When_ we find your sister alive," Rick corrected him.

The trail took them down a ravine where the ground was littered with rocks and debris, likely from rain runoff. Daryl moved cautiously, navigating the rocks with some difficulty, he made it to the bottom first and began climbing up the other side. Being in the lead, he was the first to see it. Like a sinister ominous beacon, it mocked them, beckoning them forward.

Pinned to a tree with Sasha's hunting knife _,_ was Bob's jacket.

In his haste to get to it, Tyrese lost his footing, stumbled and went down. He cried out in pain as his foot got caught and twisted between two rocks. Abe was at his side in an instant, heaving him off of the ground, as Rick hooked Tyrese's arm over his neck and supported him as a human crutch.

"Y'alright?" Daryl asked, already having removed the knife and tied the jacket around his waist, he extended Sasha's blade to her brother.

Tyrese nodded, favoring his good ankle, he limped forward, took the knife and slipped it in his pocket, a pained expression on his face that had nothing to do with his injury.

"This is some messed up shit," Abe growled, as they rounded the tree and continued on.

A rustling up ahead brought them all to an abrupt stop, as they strained their ears to hear over the sounds of the forest. A bird chirping overhead, the creaking of the trees as they swayed in the breeze, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the distinct sound of a Walkers growl. Stumbling towards them, it's decaying flesh hanging loosely from its outstretched arms, it thankfully bore no resemblance to Sasha. Daryl disposed of it quickly, breathing a sigh of relief as it crumbled into a puddle of rotted mush. They all noticed it at once, the small break in the trees just ahead. Stepping around the corpse, they walked towards it, knowing instinctively that's where they needed to go - Daryl in the lead, Abe behind him, Rick and Tyrese pulling up the rear.

A sense of foreboding growing with every step he took, Daryl moved with unease, his gut telling him something awful was waiting for them in the clearing. _Terminus. Claimers. The Governor._ The horrible atrocities committed in this new world were always by the living. Swallowing his fear, he picked up the pace, the uncertainty driving him mad. Within moments, he was pushing through the branches and stumbling into the sunlight, shielding his eyes while they adjusted.

"Shit," he mumbled, blinking to make sure he wasn't hallucinating the hellish scene before him.

"Hells bells," Abe concurred, confirming Daryl was seeing clearly.

Bound to a tree, gagged and badly beaten, was Sasha.

"Shit," he spat again as he sprinted towards her, Abe right on his heels, both of them ignoring the concerned inquiries of Rick and Tyrese who were still a ways behind and hadn't yet made it through to the clearing.

The small distance seemed like miles as they finally reached the tree. Daryl swung his crossbow to his back and reached for his knife, as Abraham pressed his fingers to her throat and checked for a pulse.

"It's strong," he exclaimed, unable to contain his grin of appreciation. "Girls got a damn warrior's spirit." He gently removed the gag, one of Sasha's own rolled up socks, from her mouth.

Daryl worked furiously at the rope, trying his best to be gentle, as a distraught Tyrese stumbled onto the scene, Rick struggling to keep him upright and run at the same time.

"She's alive," Abe reported, supporting Sasha's weight as Daryl finally finished cutting through her remaining bonds. "Alright darlin'," he crooned as her body slumped against his, and with great care, he laid her gently on the forest floor.

Dark bruises mottled Sasha's body, cuts that were already beginning to scab over indicated she'd been here for awhile. Her top lip was split and one eye was completely swollen shut, her face so badly beaten, she was barely recognizable. Rick knelt down and ran his hands over her, checking for breaks and fractures.

"I don't think anything's broken," he said, pushing an anxious hand through his hair. "We'll have Carol take a look at her when we get back."

"Who would do this?" Tyrese demanded, his anguish for her sister uncontrollable. Anger, guilt, fear ...his emotions ran rampant.

"Some assholes, that's who" Daryl growled, keeping his eyes trained on their surroundings, making sure they weren't snuck up on. Unknotting Bob's jacket from around his waist, he handed it off to Rick. "Better put this on her, she's prob'ly been exposed ta tha elements fer hours."

Supporting her neck, Rick gently sat Sasha up while Abe and Tyrese carefully slid her jacket back on. Her eye that wasn't swollen shut suddenly fluttered open and she grunted in pain.

"Sasha," Tyrese cupped her face between his huge hands. "Who did this to you?"

" _Pocket_ ," a hushed whisper, her voice barely audible.

Tyrese was confused. "What?"

" _Pocket_ ," she repeated, her voice growing louder and more frantic as she clutched her brothers arm.

"Pocket. She said pocket," Daryl said, pointing to jacket.

Rick fished his hand in one pocket, then the other and came up empty.

"Try her pants," Abe suggested.

" _Go home_ ," Sasha groaned before her good eye rolled back into her head and she lost consciousness once more.

"Yes, we're taking you home," Rick said softly, reaching into the pockets of her jeans and again producing nothing. Pressing her forward against Tyrese, he reached into her back pocket, his fingers brushing against something and grasping it between his fingers, he withdrew a folded piece of paper.

Unfolding it as fast as his hands could manage, Rick's mouth moved, silently reading the note to himself, his face turning ashen.

"Well what the hell does it say?" Abe yelled, impatient.

The wild pounding of his heart drowned out all sound around him, _and Daryl just knew_ ... _knew_ before Rick even read aloud the words on the paper. _Knew_ because Sasha had said it - _"go home"_. Not because she wanted to go home ...but because that's where they _needed_ to be.

"It says, _'when the cats are away'_ ..." Rick ground out through clenched teeth, crushing the piece of paper in his fist.

Daryl's heart pumped faster, feeling like it would burst from his chest. Used to bottling his emotions, he kept his expression impassive, but he was screaming internally.

"Leave us! Go!" Abe yelled, comprehending the cryptic message immediately and jolting them all from their states of disbelief and shock. "Go now!"

Rick looked hesitant, "Tyrese ..."

"Can walk," Abe interrupted. "Right?" He spared a glance to Tyrese who nodded his confirmation. "I've got this, now go!" His voice boomed through the clearing, echoing off the mountainside, as he gently scooped Sasha up in his arms.

Rick pulled the shoulder strap to Sasha's rifle over his head and thrust it into Tyrese's arms, his expression torn . "Be careful."

"Why you still flapping them gums, cowboy? Go!" Abe shouted, already beginning to move, Sasha carefully cradled against his massive chest.

"Stick ta tha trail," and with a parting nod, Daryl turned and began running as fast as his legs would allow, knowing Rick would be right behind him. Branches clawed at his face and neck as he pushed through the trees and brush at top speed. They stung and bit at his flesh, breaking the skin, but he didn't care. He slowed down only for the time it took to navigate the rock bed in the ravine, sparing a glance behind him to see that Rick was indeed, on his heels. Lungs burning, his throat so dry and cracked that it hurt to swallow, faintly Daryl heard Rick trying the walkie, but his blood pounding in his own ears drowned out the sound.

_Smoke._ He smelled it before he saw it, the acrid smell permeating his already deflated lungs. It curled through the trees, clinging to the air, making it hard to see. The closer they got to the lodge, the thicker it became. Sweat pouring off of him in buckets, Daryl ran harder, blindly fumbling through the dense forest.

He'd ran like this before ...for hours, after a black car with a cross in the back window. He'd ran and ran after it, until he couldn't anymore, and in the end it hadn't mattered. In the end, she was just ... _gone_.

_"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter came from the song "Feral Love" by Chelsea Wolfe. I drew my inspiration of the running in the woods scene from her music. Very intense - worth a listen. xoxo~ Lis


	31. Where is the light, wonder if it's weeping somewhere?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos erupts at the lodge and Beth is left to her own devices - trying to protect the ones she loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On time this week! I really don't have much to say - I'm very pleased with how this chapter turned out, my editor too - I hope you guys feel the same. ;)

"C'mere love," Beth reached to gently pluck Judith from Gabe's arms as she watched Daryl and the others disappear into the cover of the woods with a heavy heart. As if sensing her sadness, Judith whimpered, kicking her pudgy legs against Beth's hips.

"Shhh," Beth comforted her, pressing a feather light kiss to her temple. "I'm sad too, but they'll be back soon. Let's go give you a bath," she cooed, determined to stay busy.

"I'm not sure I should be present for that," Eugene said, swallowing uncomfortably. "There's laws ..."

"You can keep Willy company," Beth suggested, doing her best to keep a serious face. She whistled, and within moments the scruffy one-eyed mutt was bounding up the porch stairs and following her indoors.

Having already pulled the things she needed to bathe Judith, Beth headed straight to her and Daryl's room. Like the dog, Eugene followed right behind her, and like the dog, he took a seat at the foot of the bed. Beth closed the door and set Judith in her pack-N-play while she stepped into the bathroom to start filling the tub.

"That's an attractive dress," Eugene's usual monotone voice sounded faint over the bath water. "Certainly not very practical present circumstances, but the blue compliments your fair complexion and light hair."

"Ummm thanks," Beth replied at the strange off-handed compliment.

"Daryl and I have expanded the parameters of our relationship to a casual pleasantness," he explained. "I believe this allows me to conform to social normalities and compliment you in a respectful manner."

"That's good," Beth giggled. "Compliment respectably accepted and appreciated," she added, beginning to undress Judith.

"Did you know her mother?" Eugene asked, averting his gaze as Beth unfastened the tabs of Judith's diaper.

"Yes," Beth answered, scooping a squirmy naked Judith into her arms. "We met after the turn, when she was pregnant with Judy."

"So you guys have been together for awhile?" Eugene called after her when she disappeared back into the bathroom again.

"Uh huh," Beth confirmed, gently settling Judith in the tub and rubbing her down with some baby wash she had picked up on her run. "Based on Judy's aging, I'd say about two years. Give or take."

Eugene scratched Willy behind his ears, marveling at the one-eyed dog. "Explains things ..."

"Explains what?" Beth asked, rinsing the soap from Judith, squinting as she splashed in the water, sending sprays of it onto her face and arms. "Silly girl," she mumbled for Judith's ears only and was rewarded by a semi-toothy grin.

"Why ya'll care about each other in a such a familial sense."

Standing, Beth reached to pull the plug and drain the tub, laughing as Judith startled at the gurgling sound. Wrapping her in a big fluffy towel, she scooped her up and went back to the bedroom.

"We _are_ a family," she nodded, placing Judith on the bed and toweling her off the best she could while the naked baby tried to squirm her way onto her back and crawl away.

Eugene averted his gaze again. "I never had that ..." He let his sentence drop.

Not missing the hint of sadness in his usual monotone garble, Beth pressed him. "Never had what?"

"People who cared about me like that. I mean, other than my mother, which is rather obvious. But ... _Friends_."

"Abe and Rosita care about you," Beth offered. Distracting Judith with a red solo cup, she quickly stuffed her into a clean diaper and a cozy footed sleeper adorned with pink lambs.

"Out of necessity," Eugene shrugged. "They care for my well being because I'm a useful commodity. It's not the same."

Picking Judith up off of the bed and cradling her against her chest, Beth took a seat beside Eugene, her soft blue eyes seeking out his. "I think it's more than that," she said, truthfully. "And Tara is quite fond of you. There's no agenda there," she reminded Eugene.

"She likes girls."

Beth laughed, "She's your friend. We can be friends too."

"This isn't the part where I accept and you have a laugh at my expense?" Eugene asked.

His monotone voice remained even, but Beth saw in his soulful eyes that sadly, he was serious. It tugged on her heartstrings. "No Eugene. This isn't the part where I laugh at you. This is the part where we have a casual conversation and get to know each other."

Judith's red solo cup slipped out of her slobbery fingers and hit the floor, resulting in a whimper. Quickly Eugene bent to scoop up the cup, wiping it off on his shirt before returning it to Judith's grabbing little hands. She squealed excitedly, flinging her arm around wildly, rewarding Eugene with another of her semi-toothy grins.

"And now you're Judith's friend for life. She takes her red solo cups very seriously."

Eugene smiled genuinely. "Apocalypse building blocks."

The sound of Noah and Tara's voices carried through the door, followed by thudding in the corridor. Quickly, Beth stood, pushing Judith into Eugene's reluctant lap.

"Wait ...no ...I ..." He stammered, holding Judith as if she were a fine piece of porcelain that he was afraid would crack.

"It's okay, just hold onto her for a sec," Beth assured him as she flung open the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

Noah was leading a limping Tara, her arm wrapped around his neck to support her weight. Sheepishly, she smiled at Beth. "Tissue paper ankles," she sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance with her own clumsiness.

Beth hurried forward, hooking Tara's other arm around her neck and helping to guide her back to the bedroom. "What happened?"

"I slipped coming down the loft ladder. Same leg that was just finally starting to heal up."

"Rosita flagged us in the front. Carol sent me in with her so the two of them could stay on point," Noah explained.

"What happened?" Eugene asked, still looking nervous and uncomfortable with Judith in his lap, as they ambled through the doorway sluggishly.

"Just a little slip," Beth replied, leading Tara to the foot of the bed and depositing her by Eugene. She hurried from the room in search of the first aid kit in the hallway linen closet.

"I fell," Tara shrugged, extending her injured leg out in front of her. Taking pity on Eugene, she hoisted Judith onto her own lap. "I didn't have your hair to cushion my fall."

"Respect my hair, Tara." Eugene tossed back, his serious tone belying the smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

Beth returned, first aid kit in tow and knelt before Tara. "No Maggie and Glenn yet?" She asked, flipping open the lid and digging through the boxes' contents.

Noah shook his head. "No ones returned yet."

Ignoring the nagging feeling of unease settling deep within her stomach, Beth focused on her task, producing some ace bandaging. _They hadn't even been gone long,_ she told herself. Gently she removed Tara's boot, pausing briefly when she winced, then cautiously peeled her sock off.

"It's swelling up pretty fast," Beth observed, carefully turning Tara's foot to examine it. "You'll have to stay off your feet for awhile."

"Great," Tara snorted, poking Judith on her pert little nose. "I love being useless."

"It could have been worse," Beth reminded her, already wrapping the bandaging around her injured ankle. "It can always be worse."

The sudden sound of police sirens blaring and bouncing off the surrounding hills caused every one to freeze. A sound that would have been comforting in another time was now odd and eerie, and seemingly _out of place_. They sat in stunned silence, no one saying a word, except Willy who growled and jumped down from the bed, taking a defensive stance beside his master.

Beth paused her wrapping and stood, instructing Eugene to finish and help Tara get her boot back on. Without hesitating, she headed towards the door, her hand instinctively going to the gun holstered against her hip.

"Stay," she instructed everyone in a very Daryl-like manner, bumping straight into Father Gabriel as she rounded the corner in the hall.

"What's going on? Are we being rescued?" He asked, hopeful.

"I don't think so," Beth answered honestly. "Go back to my room," she instructed him, moving past Gabriel and continuing towards the common room in the front of the lodge where she could get a look at what was going on outside from the large bay windows.

Her feet feeling like lead, Beth finally arrived at her destination and leaned against the windowpane. She could see Carol in the distance, perched on the tree-stand, very obviously scanning the landscape, trying to pinpoint the noise. From her vantage point, she couldn't see Rosita, but Beth imagined she was doing the same.

Squinting against the glass, Beth saw the dust cloud rising up from the driveway in the distance before the car was even visible. It crept out of the haze in a blur of blue and red flashing lights, a police car heading full speed towards them, giving no indication it planned on slowing down. Barreling ahead, it plowed through the fence, right towards Carol sending sprays of wood flying everywhere. Ducking from the flying debris and splintered wood, Carol stepped too far back on the platform, and losing her footing, tumbled from her perch to the hard ground below.

"No!" Beth screamed, pounding her fists against the glass, watching in horror as the scene unfolded in slow motion before her. Carol falling through the air and hitting the ground amidst the rubble of the fence, she lay there unmoving as the police car jerked its wheel and slid into a stop a few feet from her body, revealing the other cruiser that was hidden behind it.

"They found me," Noah's whisper came from somewhere behind her, the sound foreign to her ears... _distorted_. It was all too much to comprehend, the distortion swirled around her, suffocating her. Nothing was real - this was all just another nightmare that she would wake up from. She'd pull on her jacket and run barefoot to the barn ...to Daryl. He'd scold her, then fold her in his arms and everything would be okay.

But it wasn't Daryl's hands she felt on her arm tugging her from the window, it was Noah's. It wasn't a dream, but cold, hard reality. And _nothing_ was going to be okay.

Shaking away the distortion, Beth snapped into action. Yanking her arm free from Noah's grasp, she whirled to face him. "Who are these people? You know them?"

"There's no time to explain," he shook his head, backing away from the window, trying to stay out of sight. "We have to hide Beth, we have to get out of here!" He yelled. "These are bad people!"

Survival mode kicking into full gear, Beth dived for and slid the bolt into place on the front door, grabbing the hammer and nails on the service desk, she hurriedly secured the plank for barring the door, sloppily hammering it into place. A good deal of force would pull it right out, but she'd be damned if she'd make getting inside any easier for them. Sparing one more look out into the yard, her heart clenching painfully, she watched one of the men clad in uniform nudge Carol with the toe of his boot, and then step away from her when she showed no signs of life.

Stifling a cry of rage, Beth jerked the heavy drapes shut and turned to a frantic Noah, grabbing his arms and seeking out his eyes with her own to ground him. "Listen to me Noah. I'm not going to let them hurt any of us. Rosita is still out back. She had to have seen everything we saw, but she's outnumbered and likely took cover. I need you to get Father Gabriel and you's need to get Eugene and Tara out the back door."

"Okay," Noah nodded.

"Get out the back and go down into the crawl space. Stay quiet and stay put," she ordered him, finally releasing his arms. "Go now!"

"What about you and Judith?" He asked, concerned for her safety.

"We'll be right behind you. I need to lock this place down to create a diversion, that way we can sneak into the woods while they're searching the lodge. Now go," she said again. "Please!"

Not waiting to watch him go, Beth ran for Rick's room, opening the door, her fingers fumbling for the lock, she turned it and then pulled the door closed before moving to the next room and then the next. She moved swiftly, her heart pounding in her ears as she locked all the bedroom doors in the front of the lodge, praying her plan would work and that would keep them busy for awhile. She was already turning down the hallway and sprinting to her room when she heard the splintering of wood as the front door was forced open. Diving into her room, she smacked right into Father Gabriel.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded, not expecting the kink in her plans to come from her own side.

"She refused to leave without you," Gabriel motioned his hand towards Tara who sat stubbornly planted on the bed. "And I refuse to leave all three of you."

Beth groaned, her eyes quick scanning the room, and drawing some relief to see that at least Noah and Eugene had made it out. Willy was gone too. "Where's Judith?" Gabriel had said ' _all three of you_ '.

Tara pointed to the pack-N-play where Judith slept soundly, unawares of the chaos unfolding around her.

Help her," Beth nodded to Gabriel as she ran to the pack-N-play. "We need to get out of here before it's too late," she ground out through clenched teeth, keeping her voice low.

"Oh, it's already too late, darlin'," a deep southern drawl rasped from the doorway.

Fear, icy cold and paralyzing slammed into her, as Beth slowly turned around, making herself a protective shield between the sleeping baby and the enemy blocking their only form of escape. Gripping the sides of the pack-N-play so tightly she lost feeling in her fingers, Beth raised her eyes, boldly facing their captors.

"Well ain't you a peach," the man whistled, sizing her up as if he wasn't holding a gun on her. "Forbes was right about you."

Beth did the same, ignoring his suggestive remark, she took in his appearance. Dressed in police blues, clean shaven and seemingly well kept, it seemed like he _should_ have been the good guy, that he _should_ have been here to offer them protection. His looks were just a farce, a carefully constructed lie. Maybe at some point he was the good guy, but not today. Not in this world. _It was all a lie._

"What do you want?" She asked him, her eyes flickering over the name plate fastened to his breast. "Officer Walsh," she finished, addressing him by his title. "If that's even who you are."

"At yer service, ma'am," He nodded, mocking her by tipping his hat. "Bello, Forbes, Tanaka, Gorman," he called to his co-conspirators. "They're all holed up in here!"

"Well it's good you're here," Tara stared up at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "There's been some assholes sneaking around the property. We'd like to file a report."

"Oh yer cute. Real cute," he glared down at her, his gaze lingering too long on the open neckline of her shirt.

"We mean you no harm," Gabriel chimed in. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement ..."

"It's funny you should mention that, Padre," the man called Walsh interrupted him. "That's exactly why we're here."

Two more officers appeared in the doorway, flanking Officer Walsh, one of them a short, stout woman with her hair pulled tightly into a bun beneath her hat. They held their guns out in front of them, despite the fact that no one made a move to reach for their weapons.

"Where's Gorman and Tanaka?" Walsh asked the woman whose name tag read "Bello".

"Checking the rooms upstairs," she replied, lowering her weapon a fraction of inch.

"There's no one else here," Beth lied through her teeth, amazed how she could do it so easily. "Everyone's out ...looking for our friend."

"You don't think that's a coincidence now, do ya?" the one with the name tag that read "Forbes" asked, a sadistic grin twisting his lips.

"Oh, you bastards," Tara hissed, feeling duped for her part in it.

"Shut your mouth bitch, no one was talking to you," Walsh yelled, taking an aggressive step forward, his gun just inches from Tara's face.

Judith stirred from the noise, and Beth gripped the pack-N-play behind her tighter, silently willing her not to wake up.

"Whaddya hidin' back there sugar?" Forbes asked, leaning in and pushing himself up on his tip-toes.

"You mentioned an arrangement," Father Gabriel interrupted, in an effort to draw the attention away from the baby.

Forbes turned, regarding Gabriel with an icy stare. "Forgive me Father, for I'm about to sin," he snickered and without further warning, slammed the butt of his gun against Gabriel's skull, knocking him to the ground and out cold.

"Was that necessary?" Bello asked, her eyes resting on the crumpled mass Gabriel collapsed into. "He was harmless and could have been useful."

Forbes shrugged, taking a step towards Beth, "He talked too much."

"Alright get up," Walsh ordered, grabbing Tara by her arm and yanking her none to gently from the bed. Ignoring her yelp of pain, he pushed her off onto Bello. "Take 'er, frisk 'er, load 'er up."

Tara's eyes shot daggers at the man, as the female cop grabbed her arm and lead her out of the room a tad more gently than Walsh had handled her.

"I'll gladly frisk this one," Forbes offered, licking his lips in a vile and suggestive way.

"Shut up," Walsh snapped as he moved towards Beth. His hand shot out quickly, snatching her arm before she even had a moments thought to react. Twisting it up behind her back, Beth cried out as he pushed her face down onto the bed and roughly unfastened the belt that holstered her weapons. Her knife hit the floor with a loud clang and bounced somewhere under the bed, startling Judith awake and into a fit of wailing. Walsh cursed, pulling Beth back up as harshly as he shoved her down and pushing her off into Forbes eager hands.

"Don't touch her!" Beth screamed, trying to break out of Forbes iron-like grasp on her arms as he shoved her face first up against the wall, one hand on the back of her neck, the other on her hip.

Beth grunted, feeling the air rush from her lungs in _whoosh_ as Forbes pressed his weight against her to pin her in place and began running his hands along her body, much slower than necessary, to frisk her. Unable to even protest, Beth fought to drag air into her lungs, as Judith's cries rung in her ears.

"The hell is going on in here?" A commanding voice boomed from the doorway. "Back off Forbes, I'm pretty sure she ain't concealing no heavy artillery in that little dress."

Smelling her hair as he began pulling away, Forbes inhaled deeply, smirking as Beth cringed. "Had my eye on you fer awhile," he whispered for only her ears to hear. "Seen exactly what you can do. We're gonna get to know each other _real well_ soon enough," he finished, then stepped back giving Beth a chance to pull some air into her deflated lungs.

Still gripping the wall for support, Beth moved for the pack-N-play, only to be obstructed by Walsh.

"Let her quiet that kid," the booming voice demanded, leaving no doubt that he was the one in charge of the mission.

Walsh scooted to the side as Beth stumbled to the pack-N-play, reaching for Judith. She wrapped her arms securely around her, rubbing her back to soothe the frightened baby. Only then did she turn to face her would-be savior.

At least a head and a half taller than everyone else, he looked too big to fit through the doorway. His hair and eyes were dark, and there were dimples in his cheeks, although he wasn't smiling. "It's clear," he told the others, asserting his authority. "It's time to go." Extending his hand, he turned his dark eyes on her, "Miss."

It wasn't a question. He expected her to go willingly. Severely outnumbered, unarmed and literally nowhere to run, Beth wracked her brain for what to do. _Stall, dammit stall._ If she could stall them long enough for any of the others to return, at least they would have a fighting chance.

"I'll need to grab food ...diapers, for the baby," she stammered, knowing that wherever they were holing up was probably unequipped to deal with an infant. Beth played on his sensibilities, praying this officer was as decent as he was portraying. Unlike the others, he was wearing a jacket, and his name tag was hidden from view. By process of elimination, Beth knew this was either Gorman or Tanaka.

"Quickly," he nodded. "Hand me the baby first."

Beth's heart sank. Not like she would take off with Judith and leave Tara to her own devices, but the thought of any of them, _especially_ Forbes, putting their hands on the baby made her physically sick to her stomach.

"We're taking the kid?" Forbes spat, not bothering to hide his disdain. "Dawn ain't gonna like this."

"You let me worry about that," the officer shot back. "If the others don't return, that baby will die, and I ain't having that on my conscious." Persistently, he held his arms out for Judith. "C'mon Miss, or we go as is."

Defeated, Beth reluctantly handed over Judith, her palms lingering on her back to comfort her when Judy seemed to tense up in the strangers hands. Her plan to stall all but forgotten with the urge to have Judith back in the protective circle of her arms, Beth grabbed a stack of diapers off the side of the dresser, looking around for somewhere to put them, having already given Maggie the diaper bag stuffed with Maternity clothing. Frantically she scanned the room, then opted for a pillowcase, grabbing it up and pulling the pillow out of it, her nostrils were immediately assaulted with the deep smell of smoke and woods and sweat ... _Daryl_.

Fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, Beth shoved the diapers inside, shoving her emotions away as well. _Put it away_. She couldn't think about Daryl right now, her current priority was keeping Judith safe and staying alive.

"Can we just go already?" Walsh whined. "We only baited fer about two miles."

"I'm goin' as fast as I can," Beth snapped at him, pulling open one of the dresser drawers and snatching handfuls of Judith's clothing. "Her baby food is in the kitchen," she told the more reasonable officer that was holding Judith.

"Lead the way," he replied, following her out of the bedroom and back towards the kitchen.

Beth moved quickly, flinging open the cupboards, she began grabbing jars with both hands and laying them on the counter. Stealing a quick glance at the backdoor, she wondered if Eugene and Noah had made it safely to Rosita, or if they had captured them too. The officer cleared his throat and Beth picked up the pace, shoving the Gerber jars into the pillowcase, then turning to face him when she was done.

Placing his hand on her elbow, he guided her forward, back towards the front entrance of the lodge, giving no indication he planned to return Judith to her while they were still inside. Beth struggled to keep pace with his long strides, her boots clopping on the hardwood floors beneath her, she looked around, painfully knowing she would probably never see this place again. She wouldn't fight, not while they had Judith.

Stepping out onto the porch, Beth raised her arm to shield her eyes from the bright sun, desperately scanning the horizon for any sign of her family and loved ones, but the only thing in her line of vision was the hellish scene she'd witnessed from the front window. Carol's lifeless body laying exactly where it had fell, her one arm twisted at an odd angle. Beth marched forward, not bothering to stifle the sob that worked its way up her throat.

"She ain't dead," the officer with no name tag beside her spoke, leaving Beth to wonder why he had felt the need to tell her.

The wind had kicked up, blowing a stale breeze across the field, it ruffled the hem of her dress and whipped through her unbound hair, carrying the scent of smoke. The officer beside her smelled it too, turning as she did, looking for the source and finding the thick black mass pouring from the second floor of the barn. Beth allowed herself to be hopeful for a minute. Had Rosita started the fire?

The officer let out a muffled curse, "Damn idiots. Which one of you morons lit up the barn?" He demanded, giving Beth a gentle shove towards the female officer Bello, who already had Tara secured in the backseat of one of the cruisers.

"I did," a familiar voice called from somewhere behind them.

Jerking her head around at the sound, Beth was shocked to see that it was Noah that stood in the field holding an automatic rifle on the cops that Beth instantly recognized as Rosita's. "Let them go," he demanded, giving his best impression of bravado.

"Well look who finally grew a pair," The officer still holding Judith said, and Beth was surprised to see that he was actually smiling. "Where ya been Noah? We've been lookin' for you."

"Around," Noah shrugged. "Not sure why you were looking for me, though."

"You know why," Walsh growled.

"I ain't going back," Noah replied, waving his gun. "No one needs to die today. Just leave."

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Noah. You know how Dawn gets when she's angry," the officer holding Judith called back.

"Dawns not my problem anymore," Noah hissed, spitting on the ground in a blatant sign of disrespect.

"Yer severely outnumbered dumbass," Forbes barked at him. "Only reason we ain't shot ya dead already is cus Dawn took a liking ta yer ugly limpin' ass."

Beth swallowed nervously, watching the exchange between Noah and the Officers, wishing the Cop that held Judith would put her down and out of harms way. She shook her head at Noah, silently pleading with him to not open fire with Judith in the middle of the fray.

"Just get in your cars. Let the girls go and drive away. This _isn't_ how Dawn operates," Noah reasoned. " _You know this._ "

"Ya even know how ta shoot that thing boy?" Walsh asked, taunting Noah.

"Guess you'll find out," Noah taunted back.

The fire was raging now, the flames growling as they engulfed the entire second floor of the barn. Licking and eating away at the lumber, the newly fixed portion of the roof buckled and fell, collapsing in on itself with a loud roaring crash. Everyone turned to look, and Forbes took full advantage of the distraction, with Noah in his cross-hairs, he raised his weapon, his finger on the trigger, squeezing.

With a feral scream, Beth tore herself from Bello's grasp and threw herself at Forbes, using her body weight to knock him off balance as the gun fired. The bullet whirred past Noah, just barely missing him.

"Run!" She cried. "Dammit run Noah! Find Daryl and Rick!"

"Stupid bitch," Forbes spat, regaining his balance, he turned and backhanded Beth hard in the face with the butt of his gun.

She crumpled to the ground, her ears ringing from the force of the blow. Beth struggled to open her eyes, fighting against the blinding dizziness. Her fingers instinctively going to her throbbing forehead, she felt the oozing warmth of blood on her fingertips. As the ringing in her ears abated she could hear more gunshots, harsh words being spoken, Tara screaming, Judith crying, but she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Finally forcing her eyes open, she squinted against the pain, her vision clouded, she barely made out Noah's form running as fast as his limp would allow towards the safety of tree line, as a bullet pierced his back and he went down, falling forward onto the grass.

"No," she whispered into the dirt, as she felt firm hands gripping her waist, pulling her up from the ground. She stumbled backwards against the solid wall of one of the officers, unable to find her footing as the world still spun around her.

"That was stupid," the officer with no name tag said, turning her around to face him. Beth gripped his shirt, waiting for her head to stop spinning and the world to come back into focus.

"I can't help you if you do stupid things," he scolded her, and Beth felt his hands coming up under her knees as he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against the massive wall of his chest.

"No," Beth groaned, pushing at his shoulders, weakly. He was not supposed to touch her like this, hold her so intimately against him as only Daryl ever had. "Judith ..." She mumbled. If he was holding her, _who had the baby_?

"Your little girl is fine," he replied, bending to shove her in the back of the cruiser and crawling in after her. "Your friends got her."

"Who-," Beth stammered, her whole head was throbbing and she still couldn't focus her vision. "Who are you?" She asked him.

"Gorman," she heard him say as the black veil finally engulfed her and she drifted into unconsciousness.


	32. She leads me through moonlight, only to burn me with the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what seemed like forever, Daryl and Rick make it back to the lodge and attempt to pick up the pieces. How will Daryl handle losing Beth again after the first time nearly destroyed him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not uploading this yesterday. My kids had a whole day planned out for me for Mother's Day and I was unable to get on my laptop at a decent time. So, here it is, another extra-long chapter (have you all noticed I've been trying to make sure all the chapters are over 5k words now? lol). 
> 
> So just a few things I wanted to mention, based on a recent review from a salty reader regarding the "Grady Plot" (on ff.net) . This story has pretty much been mapped out since the mid-season finale (Coda) - and even before that (when it was only meant to be a one-shot after the season 4 finale), since I started writing it, I have tried to stick as close to canon as possible - order of deaths (minus Beth's of course) and introduction of new characters - basically even the lodge they are staying at now is a twist on Gabe's church (the only sanctuary they found after Terminus) - and just like Bob died there, he dies at the lodge - although circumstances are different. Just like finding Noah fits this time-frame too. So yes, I had always planned to introduce the Grady characters - although, with my own twists and motives (and obv this isn't Grady since they aren't in Atlanta). So yeah, just wanted to explain that. For those of you who are still sad/hurt/etc. about Grady and the route the writers decided to go, all I can say is that my story obv ends differently and NOT at the hospital, and will reach a much more satisfying conclusion for Bethylers that were left wanting more after Coda. For those of you who plan to hold out until the end, I appreciate you. For those of you who decide not too, I hope you at least enjoyed the ride. :) 
> 
> I spent a good chunk of my time last weekend watching Still, Alone, Slabtown and Coda (research purposes) and I hope the end of this chapter hits you the way it was intended (my editor was quite pleased with it). lol ~ So - Peace, Love and Bethyl, Lis

Home was just up ahead, the bright sun beating down in all its glory, could be seen filtered through the thick branches of the trees. It was so near, and yet so far. Like the damn nightmare where you keep running for the door at the end of the hall, reaching for the knob to break free, but no matter how close you get, it remains tauntingly just out of reach. Damn near close to collapse, Daryl pushed forward, drawing strength from God only knew where, he yanked his bow off his back and hoisted it on his shoulder, fingering the trigger as he leapt through the brush and finally stumbled into the open field. He knew it would be bad, even fooled himself into thinking he was prepared for the horrors that awaited him ...he was not.

The barn was ablaze, the flames greedily devouring what remained of the structure. His eyes taking in all its chaos - the front gate scattered in ruins, the lodge door torn off its hinges, Daryl scanned the property for any signs of life, praying that the others were holed up hidden somewhere inside. Praying that Beth was okay. He started for the lodge, her name on the tip of his tongue as movement amidst the rubble of the gate caught Daryl's eye. A flash of silver and a faint moaning.

"Carol," he breathed, rushing to her side.

Daryl fell to his knees and gently cradled her head in his lap, mindful of her arm that was clearly broken, hanging limply at an odd angle. "What happened?" He and Rick asked in unison, as Rick was suddenly right beside him.

"They came out of nowhere," she whispered, her good arm reaching behind her head, wincing as she pulled it back, her fingers stained crimson with her own blood.

"Who?" Rick asked, breathless as his lungs struggled to draw in the fresh air they craved.

"They were cops," Carol groaned. "Or at least _dressed_ as them. It all happened so fast ... I couldn't stop them ..." her eyes blinking rapidly, she looked up at them as if she was confused.

"Can you stand?" Daryl asked, glancing nervously towards the lodge, torn between helping his friend and searching for the woman he loved.

"I think so," Carol nodded, wincing again from the pain, as Daryl and Rick helped her up from the ground and to her unsteady feet. She clung to Daryl momentarily while she found her footing.

"Rick! Daryl!" Michonne's voice called to them from beyond the pond, she was running full steam, Glenn, Carl and Maggie right behind her.

"Carl!" Rick's face flooded with relief as the boy tore around Maggie and Glenn and ran straight for his fathers arms.

"What happened? We heard shots and sirens," Maggie cried, immediately looking to Daryl. "Where's Beth?"

Daryl didn't bother replying, steadying Carol, he turned and darted for the lodge, sprinting up the porch stairs and through the splintered remains of the front door. "Beth!" he screamed her name, running through room after empty room, noticing that most of the doors to the front rooms had also been kicked off of their hinges. He swept the entire lodge before heading to the room they shared, knowing full well she wouldn't be there. "Beth!" He called again, only his echo producing a reply as he stifled the urge to panic. _This couldn't be happening_. Not again!

The room looked normal, no signs of a struggle, nothing torn up or out of place, except the first aid kit that lay open on the floor at the foot of the bed and his pillow stripped of its pillowcase propped against the headboard - he half expected her to round the corner, kiss his scratchy cheek and tell him she was okay. Stepping into the room, Daryl looked around frantically, his fist in his mouth, his eyes falling on the crumpled mass of black and white on the floor, blocking the bathroom doorway.

"Gabriel?" Daryl called his name, dropping down to roll the man over, relieved to see his chest rise and fall steadily. He was breathing, knocked out cold from the huge lump on the top of his head, from the looks of it. Lightly he slapped the mans cheeks, attempting to rouse him from unconsciousness.

Gabriel's eyes flew open, his facial expression a mix of fear and confusion. "Wha- what happened?" He asked.

"I was hopin' ya could tell me," Daryl grumbled, growing increasingly frustrated that no one seemed to know what the hell was going on! "Beth? Judith?"

"The police officers ..." Gabriel stammered. "The - they came and Beth was protecting Judith. I - I don't know what happened ... We were supposed to sneak out the back, but they were too fast ..."

Agitated, Daryl stood abruptly and offering his hand, pulled Gabriel up from the floor. Stooping to pick up the first aid kit, he stalked back outside, feeling like his chest was about to cave in on itself, but refusing to let his grief overtake him just yet. Beth was resourceful, he had seen it firsthand, she had told him she could take care of herself and she had, keeping both herself and Gabriel alive for weeks before reconnecting with the group. They _could_ have gotten away, could still be hiding nearby, he told himself.

As he stepped off of the porch, Rick's hopeful eyes sought him out, and Daryl sadly shook his head no, his own pain mirrored in his chosen brothers eyes. He was just about to make his way towards the barn when Rosita and Eugene came around the side of the lodge, and were immediately bombarded with questions.

"Those putas came charging right through the fence!" Rosita yelled, throwing her arms around wildly as she explained in a very animated fashion, what happened in their absence from her point of view. "Tara had fell so Noah took her inside and then they came riding up, sirens blazing. Carol went down, I was outnumbered ...I didn't know what to do. Eugene and Noah came sneaking out the back door, so I hid them in the woods." Her mouth moving a mile a minute, she continued, "Then we see some of them coming out the front with Tara and they stuffed her in the car. Next thing I know, Noah's snatching my gun and running towards the barn and minutes later it's on fire."

"Noah set the fire?" Glenn asked.

"I guess," Rosita shrugged. "After that shots rang out. A lot of them, so I pushed Eugene deeper into the woods."

"You didn't try to help?" Maggie demanded.

"Noah took my gun. All I had was a knife and Eugene. You wanted me to beat them with his hair?" Rosita snapped back, rolling her neck, full of sass.

"Of course not," Rick replied, wiping the sweat that was pouring off of him.

"What about Beth? Judith?" Daryl asked, daring to be hopeful.

"They were supposed to follow us out," Eugene said, wringing his hands. "They never came."

"Has anyone seen Noah?" Glenn asked.

"Not since he snatched my gun," Rosita shook her head no, her eyes searching the group for Abraham. "Where's Abe?"

"With Sasha and Tyrese," Daryl informed her. "They ain't far behind. This shit was a trap. They used Sasha as bait."

Maggie covered her mouth, stifling a sob as the realization hit them all. The lurker on the property ... Someone had been watching them, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

"Judith is gone?" Carl asked, his voice cracking with emotion as Rick folded him back into his arms.

"We're gonna get her back," Rick promised him. "Hey, she's got Beth an' Tara lookin' after her. You know they'll protect her at all costs."

Daryl couldn't listen to it anymore. "Help Carol," he growled, shoving the first aid kit into Glenn's hands, he turned and stalked to the side of the lodge where he kept his bike. Ignoring the questions flung at his back, Daryl climbed on his motorcycle, kicking up the kickstand and turning the key. The bike instantly roared to life, helping to drown out the protests he didn't plan on listening to anyway.

"Daryl!" Rick and Glenn charged after him, positioning themselves in front of the motorcycle. "Don't do this," Rick tried reasoning with him.

"You don't even know where you're going!" Glenn yelled over the engine, reaching to try and grab the key from the ignition, but thinking better of it when he saw the deadly look in Daryl's eyes. "You can't leave, we need you here."

"Goin' ta find them," Daryl spat, revving the engine as a warning for them to get out of the damn way.

"Get off the bike Daryl," Michonne said, backing up Glenn and Rick. She came out of nowhere, stealthy as usual, and unafraid of Daryl, reached and pulled the key from the ignition, stepping back quickly as the motorcycle stalled beneath him.

"Gimme tha damn key!" Daryl roared, quickly reaching for Michonne, but she was quicker and easily evaded his grasp.

"Where you gonna go?" Her voice calm, as usual, she remained unaffected by his rage. "You think your the only one who's hurting? Look around you. We are all itching to move, but we've gotta have a plan, _dammit_ , gotta know where to go. You can not ride out of here half cocked and angry as hell, cuz you're gonna get yourself killed and then how will you bring her back?" She drew her brows up, eying him coolly, and after a moment, handed him back the motorcycle key.

She was right, and Daryl hated her for it. Throwing his leg over the seat, he climbed off of the bike and kicked it over, wanting to hurt someone as he was hurting, needing an outlet for his anger to keep from falling apart at the seams. The bike crashed to the ground in a loud clanging of chrome denting from the force. The others stood by, watching silently as the one eyed mutt came leaping across the field, barking furiously.

"Damn useless dog," Daryl muttered under his breath, but something in his gut told him to follow, as it took off towards the barn, still barking.

His legs beginning to feel like lead from all the running, Daryl sprinted after Willy, his eyes squinting against the heat of the blaze as he got closer to the flaming structure. He saw it then, the body lying face down in the grass just a few feet away from the tree line.

"Noah," Daryl yelled his name, skidding to his knees beside his friend. His fingertips fumbling for a pulse and finding one, weak, but it was there. The back of his shirt was soaked in blood.

"Is he ...?" Rick asked, unable to finish.

"Naw," Daryl, wiped the sweat from his brow, the ashes from the fire plastering to his wet, sticky skin. He tore the back of Noah's shirt open, looking for the source and found the bullet hole in his shoulder.

"Good dog," Daryl acknowledged Willy, as he gently turned Noah over onto his back, realizing he didn't know shit about how to treat a gunshot wound, other than to stop the bleeding and clean it so it wouldn't get infected. Unless their were fragments, then that was a whole other mess in of itself. It was times like this that he truly missed that tough old sonofabitch, Hershel.

Carol was there then, clutching her broken arm against her body, she carefully lowered herself to her knees beside Daryl. "It went through clean," she observed. Reaching with her good arm to press her hand gently against Noah's temple. "He's warm, probably from being so close to the fire, but I don't think he's feverish. That's a good-"

Her words stalled as Noah's hand shot up unexpectedly, grasping her good arm as his eyes flew open. He looked to her then to Daryl, his face twisted in pain.

"I know where they are," Noah gasped, his voice a strained whisper in his weakened state. "The cops ..." his fingers releasing Carol's shirt as he fell backwards. "I've been there ..." The words dying on his lips as he passed out again.

"No! ..." Daryl sobbed, clutching Noah's collar in desperation, trying to revive him again. "Noah, tell me. Who took them? Where do I go? Noah!"

"Daryl stop," Carol, sprung into action, ignoring her broken arm, she swatted Daryl's hands away. "We need to get him inside," she turned to Rick who motioned to Glenn, the two of them carefully lifting Noah and heading back towards the lodge.

Carol leaned forward, pulling Daryl against her chest, wincing against the pain of her broken arm, and pressed a kiss to his worried brow. "He's lost too much blood. I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but you have to wait."

The hardened and cold exterior cracking just a bit, as the nurturing Carol resurfaced, she clung to him tightly, reminding him wordlessly that she still cared. Daryl leaned against her, finally succumbing to his exhaustion for just a moment, drawing some semblance of comfort from his oldest and dearest friend. He had his answer, they weren't hiding. They were taken. And the only one who knew their whereabouts was unable to retain consciousness long enough to tell them. For now.

Bracing herself on Daryl's shoulder as she stood back up, Carol called out to Maggie, "I'll need your hands."

Maggie nodded, leading the way back inside of the lodge and under Carol's careful instruction, cut off the rest of Noah's shirt and cleaned the wound, then tearing up a bed sheet, wrapped him up, while Daryl watched intently. Now there was nothing left to do but wait, just as Carol said.

"We need ta set that," Maggie observed, eyeing Carol's broken arm.

"I'll manage," Carol gritted through the pain. "We still need to patch up Gabriel."

"I think I can wait," Gabriel interjected. "You're needed here. I'm afraid I have nothing to offer but prayer. Please, let them treat you first."

Carol nodded, giving Maggie a list of the things they would need to set the bone and make a sling, while Rick and Eugene boarded up the bedroom doors in preparation for the night, and Glenn, Michonne and Rosita picked off the Walkers that had wandered into the field, drawn by the fire.

Daryl made his way back out to the porch and leaned against the railing, reaching into his vest for his smokes. Pulling a cigarette from his pack, he popped it into his mouth, pinching it in his teeth as he struck a match and lit the end. He inhaled deeply, studying the tree line and waiting for Abe and the others to return. It was all he could do, and it was driving him mad.

"You know she's strong," Daryl felt Carl's hand on his shoulder. "I know what you're feeling. I'm scared too, but we can't give up on -"

"We don't even know where tha hell they are yet," Daryl cut him off, then thought better of it. He knew he should be more sensitive to the kid, after all, he was here trying to comfort him when he was obviously in pain too. Daryl took a deep breath and then another drag of his cigarette. "Yer right," he nodded, clearing his throat. "Lil' Asskicker won't let nuthin' happen ta Beth."

Carl smiled sadly, then leaned against the porch rail too, staring out towards the woods. "Think we should try to put that out?" He pointed towards the barn.

"Naw," Daryl answered, blowing out a puff of smoke. "It'll burn itself out soon 'nuff."

"Look!" Carl pointed to the swaying brush near the woods, just as Abe came shoving through it.

"Need some help!" Abe's voice boomed across the field, Tyrese slowly limping behind him.

Daryl flicked his cigarette and heaved himself over the railing, dropping his crossbow into the grass, as he ran to their aid, thankful for the momentary distraction. Hooking his arms under Sasha's limp body, he carefully accepted her weight, calling for Carl to grab his crossbow as he walked briskly back to the lodge. Once inside, he laid her on an empty couch, stepping back so Maggie and Carol could have a look at her, now that Carol's arm was slung as well as they could manage with what they had.

"Oh my God," Maggie gasped, taking in Sasha's horrid appearance. She clamped her hand over her mouth and ran outside, emptying the contents of her stomach over the porch railing.

"Get some water please," Carol asked Father Gabriel, as she began to clean up Sasha one-handed.

Daryl stood back, feeling like he wanted to go hide under a rock. The lodge common room looked like an infirmary and more wounded just kept pouring in. They were in seriously bad shape.

Tyrese came limping in, Rosita and Michonne holding him up, they guided him to one of the arm chairs, patiently waiting as he lowered himself into it. "It's not broken," he reassured Carol, bending to roll up his pants leg. "It's cut up pretty bad though," he extended his leg, showing her the already clotting scabs from where the two rocks gauged his ankle.

"You're next in line," Carol replied, glancing up worriedly at Maggie as she returned and swiped her mouth off with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I'm fine," she said, raising her hand to dismiss any further questioning.

"If you need to rest, then you rest," Carol instructed her, leaning closer so only Maggie cold hear her. "These first months are critical."

"I think if you can go on, then I can too," Maggie insisted, wringing out her rag in the fresh water Gabriel delivered, and gently blotting the dried blood from Sasha's split lip.

"I could really use some water," Abe said, coming through the doorway and leaning against the service desk. "That girls a hell of a lot heavier than she looks after two damn miles!"

"Thank you," Tyrese said, nodding at Abe, and receiving a nod in return.

"Thanks darlin'," Abe patted Rosita on the rear end as she handed him a bottle of water. He drank greedily, downing the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. "Get your shit together, we're leaving first thing in the morning," he announced, breathless from chugging the water down.

"What?" Rosita blinked, confused.

"It ain't safe here. I gave it a chance, but we're reverting back to the original plan, sticking to the mission. Viva la Washington at first light."

"You're what?" Rick said, him and Eugene rounding the corner. He deposited the leftover boards by the fireplace and regarded Abraham with very little patience. "We have injured people, my daughter and our friends were kidnapped and you think we're all just gonna pick up and leave?"

"I'm sorry about your daughter and friends, Rick. And I like you. Hell, I like all of you," Abe waved his arms around the room for emphasis. "But the thing is, I never wanted to stop. I agreed to this because _you_ convinced me it was safer than being on the road for the winter. Clearly it's not. My main priority is and will be to get that man," he pointed at Eugene, "to Washington."

"I ain't goin'," Eugene said quietly, stepping closer to Rick, as if he'd use him as a human shield if necessary.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Abe asked, placing his hand up to cup his ear, as if he was hard of hearing. "Can ya speak into my good ear? I'm not sure I heard you right."

"I said I ain't goin'," Eugene repeated, a little louder this time, digging into any courage resources he had.

"The hell you ain't!" Abe hollered. "I will drag you by your damn mullet if I have to boy!"

"No," Eugene was adamant. "Those girls are my friends. Beth made sure I got out safely, and I'm gonna help get them back."

"We're trying to put together a plan here. This group was obviously well organized and a lot of our people are down for the count," Rick tried reasoning with him and motioned to the injured spread all around the common room. "We _need_ your muscle."

"With all due respect Rick, you don't even know where they are," Abe countered.

"Noah knows," Rick countered him.

"Jus' let 'em go Rick," Daryl growled. "He's been itching for a way out from day one."

"You got something to say to me?" Abe whirled on Daryl, staring him down.

Daryl was not intimidated. "Yeh," he hissed, coming nose to nose with Abe. "Goodbye."

"Daryl ..." Rick's voice was stern, the tone he used when he wanted Daryl to stand down.

Nostrils flaring, his patience hanging by a tether, Daryl blew out an agitated breath, but obliged, taking a step backwards. Abraham was not so considerate.

Placing her hand on his arm, Rosita attempted to pull him back. "Abraham, this isn't right," she shook her head. "We should help."

"I'll go afterwards," Eugene offered, trying to help diffuse the situation. "I swear it. Just let me do this ...I have to do this."

Abraham laughed, "You're gonna turn your back on the whole damn world to find some girls? No offense," he added, his eyes traveling the room, "but let's look at the bigger picture here."

"That _is_ the bigger picture," Eugene argued, feeling emboldened standing behind Rick. "Compassion, friendship, family ... _humanity_."

"Oh, put your damn lady parts away. I am compassionate! I just carried that woman two miles through a damn mountainside! It ain't safe in this world no more. You care, I get it, but the lives of many outweigh the lives of a few. So go get your shit together or you leave with nothing."

"We're not goin' to Washington," Eugene shook his head.

"We are," Abe argued, taking an intimidating step forward.

Eugene look terrified, but still, he stood his ground. "We're not going to Washington," he repeated, his voice dropping an octave lower, "because I don't have the cure. There isn't one."

The room became dead silent, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, as Eugene took another step backwards, shrinking behind Rick.

"What did you say?" Abraham hissed, attempting to shake Rosita off of his arm.

Eugene swallowed as all eyes fell on him, waiting for an explanation. "There never was a cure. It was a survival strategy. I had the brains but was lacking the brawn, you had the tactical skills. I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"You lied to me?"

Eugene nodded, casting his eyes downward in shame.

"No," Abe shook his his head violently. "Don't shake your damn head at me. You _say_ it," he hissed, stabbing an angry finger in Eugene's direction.

"I - I lied to you," Eugene stammered. "It was purely out of necessity. I knew you would have left me behind otherwise."

"Your damn right I would have," Abraham yelled. "People have put their lives on the line and died to keep you alive!"

Eugene swallowed again, worrying his hands. "I know. I don't feel particularly good about that, but it's part of why I have to do this."

"Screw you," Abe spat, turning towards the door. "Screw all of you," he said, finally shrugging Rosita off of his arm, then whirled around unexpectedly and swung a punch, his meaty fist connecting with Eugene's jaw and sending him sprawling backwards into the coffee table, knocking everything to the floor as it buckled under his weight.

Rick stepped forward, intending to block Eugene from anymore of Abe's wrath, as Maggie lurched forward and slapped him across the face, shocking everyone, including Abraham who growled at her like a wounded animal, but didn't move a muscle.

"Get over yourself!" She yelled up at him, her breathing labored from the adrenaline running through her blood. "Yer not the only one who lost somethin' today."

Glenn shoved through the crowd, intent on protecting his wife, but there was no need. Without another word, Abraham turned and stomped to the bar, grabbed a bottle of bourbon and disappeared upstairs.

"I deserved that," Eugene mumbled, as Rick helped to hoist him to his feet.

"Yeah," Rick nodded his head. "You did."

Everyone returned to what they were doing, focusing on getting the lodge secured for the evening and tending to the injured. The flames eating the barn eventually wore down to a smolder as the sun finally slipped beneath the horizon. Glenn had thrown a couple of cans of Campbell's chunky soup into a large pot and served everyone dinner, but Daryl had barely tasted it, his eyes continually falling on Noah. Abe never came back downstairs and while Rick had offered to go talk to him, Rosita said it probably wasn't a good idea. It was just as well, Daryl figured. The satisfaction from knowing all along that Eugene was a fraud wore off quickly and didn't hold the same weight as he thought it would. At least their would be no more arguments about Washington.

Needing to distance himself for awhile, Daryl stood and headed towards the back of the lodge, moving quickly past the room he had shared with Beth, and realized once he arrived at the kitchen, he wouldn't be getting outside this way. The back door was boarded up. No one was getting in or out. Not tonight. Knowing it was a safety precaution, but irritated nonetheless, Daryl turned around and headed back towards the bedroom, hesitating in the doorway for what seemed like hours before he finally stepped into the room and quietly shut the door behind him. It was cold and dark inside, no warm inviting fire. No warmth at all. No Beth.

Finding his way to the dresser by memory, he lit the oil lamp and let his eyes roam around the room. Just this morning he had awoken in that bed, with Beth and everything had been alright, and now he was here alone, this morning feeling like it was a distant memory, already years in the past.

_It wouldn't kill ya ta have a little faith_ , Daryl heard Beth's voice ringing in his head. It had been dumb luck or pure miracle, however you decided to look at it, that they had stumbled onto her the first time. Daryl wasn't foolish enough to believe that would happen again. What if Noah never woke up? What if he died? What if they were too late? Too many what if's ... Only one thing was certain ...Daryl didn't want to be in a world without Beth Greene. She had gotten under his skin, carved out a spot in his in his life and in his heart and now that spot was empty and Daryl felt broken and more unsure of himself than he'd ever felt before.

Defeated, Daryl slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor, and drew his knees up against him. He didn't know how to deal with the crushing pain he was feeling in chest - _in his heart_. It was different than the first time she was gone, although it hurt like hell then too, but Daryl was only just beginning to realize his feelings for Beth then. Now it was _different_ ...deeper. A stabbing, suffocating, wrenching pain that tore him apart from the inside out. _A pain he didn't understand._

Reaching into his vest, he pulled out his cigarettes, popping one out and stuffing it into his mouth, his other hand digging in his pocket for his matches. Finding them, he struck one against the floor and touched it to the end of his smoke, puffing on it quickly to light it. He took a drag, still holding the match in his fingertips and let it burn, watching the flame crawl towards his skin, welcoming the bite of the burn when it reached his flesh, needing to feel physical pain. _That pain he understood._

A flash of light under the bed caught Daryl's eyes. Crawling forward, he bent to investigate, reaching his arm underneath the frame, his hand coming into contact and grasping around the hilt of a knife. He withdrew it, holding it up, studying the blade in the dim light. Beth's knife.

The tears came then, as Daryl slumped back against the wall. Warm and salty, they slid unbidden down his cheeks, streaking his face in contrast to the dirty soot on his skin. Twisting, he slid her knife into the sheath at his hip, needing to have it close to him. Needing to carry a piece of _her_ with him ...

The door clicked as the knob turned and Maggie let herself in. Daryl swiped quickly at his face, as she crossed the room and slid down the wall, taking a seat beside him. Minutes passed without either of them saying a word, and then Maggie finally broke the silence.

"I gave up on her," she spoke so softly that even in the quiet of the room, Daryl had to strain his ears to hear her. "After the prison fell, I went after Glenn because I knew he was on that bus. It wasn't much ta go on, but at least it was somethin'."

"Maggie ... Ya don't have ta-"

"I do," Maggie insisted, cutting him off. "I do," she nodded, maybe more to herself than to him. "I didn't even know if she was alive, but I gave up, cus I never thought I'd see her again, so it was easier just not ta think about her. Ta just pretend she was gone ...like daddy."

_I know you look at me and just see another dead girl ..._

She paused, the room growing quiet again for several minutes. Daryl waited patiently for her to continue, finishing his cigarette, he stubbed it out on the bottom of his boot.

Maggie's voice grew thick, choked with emotion, "But she made it. I didn't think she could, but she did."

_I'm not Michonne I'm not Carol, I'm not Maggie ...I survived and you don't get it because I'm not like you or them, but I made it ..._

Maggie fell silent again, her eyes falling on Beth's knife at Daryl's hip. She reached to place a comforting hand on his arm, as Daryl instinctively recoiled from her touch.

_God forbid you ever let anyone get too close ..._

She withdrew her hand, not taking offense to Daryl's reaction, as she drew her knees up to her chest and continued. "She's too good for this world. She didn't deserve this."

_I wish I could change ..._

"How can she just be gone?" She sobbed.

_I'll be gone someday. I will. You're gonna be the last man standing ..._

"I doubted her once and I won't do that again. I'm not givin' up on her," she turned to face Daryl, her eyes overflowing with tears.

"Ya shouldn't," Daryl said, surprised at the choked up sound of his own voice, as Beth's big sister poured her heart out to him. Daryl Dixon. A nobody. A nothin'.

_You gotta stay who you are not who you were ..._

"But oh my god, Daryl ...Sasha! Those monsters. What they did to her, and now they have Beth," Maggie cried.

_Places like this ...you have to put it away. You have to. Or it kills you ...here._

"She's stronger than ya think," Daryl whispered, his own tears flowing freely now. He didn't wipe them away. He didn't worry that Maggie saw them. He just didn't care.

Maggie gazed into his eyes, her own soulful and blue, and so like Beth's. "You love her." It was not a question. Not really.

Daryl nodded, his hair falling into his face. "I shoulda turned 'round. Once we were 'bout a mile out, tha trail was so damn deliberate." He shook his head, berating himself. "Jus' kept thinkin' that if it was Beth out there, I'd keep goin'. Kept thinkin' how I failed Bob, an' I didn't wanna fail Sasha too ..."

"Don't ..." Maggie hushed him.

"But I failed Beth. I love 'er an' I failed 'er," Daryl shuddered as a painful groan tore it's way up his throat. It was raw and inhuman sounding, but oh so human. The dam broke then, as sobs wracked his body, his pent up emotions from the day finally unleashing in a torrent of grief and guilt.

This time when Maggie reached for him, Daryl didn't protest. Nor did he pull away when she tugged him into her arms and hugged him tightly against her. Instead, he crumbled into her lap and cried. Cried for his uncertainty. Cried for his guilt. Cried for his hopelessness. Cried for the woman he loved.

And for the hole her absence left in his heart.

Their cries mingled in the darkness, both of them drawing some sense of comfort from their shared grief. Daryl was soaked from tears, unsure if they were his or Maggie's, unsure of how much time had passed, knowing he cared little about either.

_We should burn it down ..._

A knock at the door had them both straightening and wiping their faces clean. It was Glenn.

"Noah's awake."


	33. Cry little sister, thou shall not fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth awakens in a new place, isolated from all she knows and loves. After some introductions, she is left wondering who she can trust. Who is an ally and who is a foe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a shorter chapter this week - I just needed to "set-up" the current situation/setting. A much longer chapter next week my lovelies, I promise. As always, enjoy and Bethyl on. ~Lis

Beth rolled over in the bed, instinctively curling towards Daryl and his warmth. _Cold_. She was so cold, and the place he always occupied was empty and void of his body heat. She groaned inwardly. Why did he always have to get up so damn early? Faintly she heard talking out in the hallway. Maybe it wasn't early at all?

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open, blue eyes wide and expecting to see Daryl, surly and hair all slick from his shower, tugging on his boots while he berated the dog for being ugly. Beth gasped, her spine ramrod straight as she sat up in the bed, taking in the environment around her. Not the lodge, not her and Daryl's cozy little bedroom, but a sparsely furnished hospital room, harsh neon lights beaming down on her from overhead.

Her breathing increasing as her heart rate sped up, her memories came flooding back ...the police officers, Carol hitting the ground, Tara in the back of the police car, Noah being shot, and Judith ... _where was Judith_?

Her hand automatically moving to her forehead, she traced the coarse stitches with her fingertips, her hands shaking as she remembered the son-of-a-bitch who struck her - the same disgusting pig that had put his hands all over her. She cringed, remembering his hot breath on the back of her neck, the threats he had made. Beth shook her head, unwilling to dwell on that right now.

Rolling from the bed, Beth stumbled, unsteady on her feet, gripping her infusion pole for balance, she dragged it with her as she made her way to the window, trying to get a feel for where she was, but the landscape was unfamiliar and it was too dark to make anything out. She pressed her hands against the window pane, icy cold beneath her touch and fought the urge to cry. The click of the lock startling her, Beth staggered backwards, turning, as the door swung open. Looking for a weapon, anything she could use to protect herself, Beth ripped the IV from her arm, pinching the needle between her fingertips, and took a defensive stance.

"Drop that right now," the female officer in the doorway demanded, her hand on the holster of her weapon, a bearded man in a lab coat flanking her.

Beth made no move to obey, standing her ground. She took a tentative step backwards, gripping the needle tighter.

"It's alright," the man said, stepping around the officer. "I'm Dr. Edwards and this is Officer Dawn Lerner," he motioned to the woman beside him. "No ones going to hurt you Beth." He raised his hands, showing her he meant no harm. "Beth, that is your name right?"

"How do you know my name?" Beth asked, suspicious of their motives, still refusing to drop the IV needle.

"Your friend," he answered. "Tara," he jerked his thumb towards the hallway behind him. "She's just down the hall, resting. She had a hairline fracture. I just finished casting her."

"The baby?" Beth demanded.

"The baby is fine too," the cop spoke. "That's enough questions until you drop that," she asserted her authority, nodding towards the IV needle.

Beth obeyed then, releasing her death grip on the needle, it dropped to the floor. Satisfied, the officer relaxed, removing her hand from her holster.

"Where's Judith?" Beth demanded again, persisting to know the whereabouts of the baby.

"Safe," Officer Lerner replied in a clipped tone. "One of the wards has been looking after her while you were unconscious. I'll have her brought in to you once we know you're feeling better."

"You suffered a head injury," the doctor explained before Beth could protest. "A concussion. You may experience some dizziness or light-headedness. It'll pass."

"Where am I?" Beth asked.

"Haywood Regional, Clyde North Carolina," Officer Lerner answered her. "My officers rescued you from the rotters -"

"I wasn't rescued," Beth cut her off. "I was taken against my will from my group. And this," she pointed to the stitches on her head, "is the handiwork of one of your officers."

"Is that so?" Dawn asked, quirking a brow. "I'll be sure to get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, Dr. Edwards is here to look you over. It would be in your best interest to cooperate," she warned Beth as she turned and exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Gorman, my office! Now!" Could be heard through the closed door.

"Would you mind having a seat on the bed?" Dr. Edwards asked politely, reaching for the stethoscope that was dangling around his neck.

Beth reluctantly obliged, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, mindful to pull the hem of the hospital gown over her thighs as she scooted back. The doctor wasn't paying attention to her legs though, and she drew a little comfort from that. Instead, he focused on his task, listening to her heartbeat before grabbing the blood pressure cuff off the wall beside the bed.

"I always hated hospital gowns," he remarked while wrapping the cuff around Beth's arm. "There's some scrubs in the bathroom. You'll probably be more comfortable in those. Shampoo, soap and any other feminine products you need are under the sink."

"Where are my clothes?" She asked, as he removed the cuff and commented that her blood pressure was good.

"Being laundered probably," he shrugged. "Anyway, Dawn prefers things tidy. She likes all the wards to wear scrubs, best not to argue on the matter," he advised her. Pulling a small flashlight from the pocket of his lab coat, he flashed it before her eyes, asking her to follow the light, side to side and then up and down.

"Wards?"

"The patients. People here who aren't the officers in charge. How does your head feel?" He asked, shifting the subject.

Beth shrugged. "I'm fine."

"No dizziness?"

Beth shook her head no, lying, as the simple act of shaking her head did in fact make her feel woozy. She kept it to herself, deciding it was best not to show any signs of weakness.

"Good," Dr. Edwards nodded, grabbing the medical chart from the slot at the foot of the bed, he crossed the room, pulling up a seat on a rolling stool that sat in the corner. "How old are you Beth?"

"Eighteen. Nineteen maybe?" Beth shrugged. "Not real easy to keep track these days."

"No it isn't," he agreed with a smile. He flipped open the chart and began scratching in it with the pen he pulled from his lab coat pocket. "Any complications with the pregnancy?"

"Excuse -," Realizing he meant Judith, Beth played along. "No," she answered quickly.

"I looked her over too. She's healthy. Surprisingly so. I imagine her iron levels are a bit low." He flipped the chart closed. "Likely from weaning her from the formula too early," he added. "I gave her some supplements to level her out."

"Thank you," Beth nodded.

"Of course," he replied, standing and returning the chart back where he pulled it from. "She's just down the hall with Percy. The wards are enjoying her. It's been a long time since any of us have seen a baby."

"I want her with me," Beth said, making sure her tone left no room for argument.

"Of course you do," Dr. Edwards placated her. "It's Dawn's call, but I'll let her know you're doing better. We'll see if we can't get some of the officers to venture down to the NICU and get her a crib, set it up in here for you," he finished with a smile.

Beth remained silent. She knew he was just trying to be friendly, but setting up a crib sounded too permanent, and she had no intentions of staying.

"Okay," he muttered, when it was clear Beth had no interest in idle chit chat, he bent to retrieve her IV needle, disconnecting it from the infusion pole and tucking it into his pocket. "I'll leave you to get cleaned up, try not to get your sutures too wet. Dawn will be in then to let you know how things work around here."

Dr. Edwards went to the door, his hand on the knob, he turned back to her, keeping his voice low, "A word of advice ... Do what she tells you. Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth closed." And with that, he exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Beth slid from the bed, hearing the lock click back into place. She padded softly to the door and pressed her ear against it, nothing but silence coming from the other side. Knowing full well that she would find no weapons, she looked anyway, pulling open drawers and cabinets and finding them all empty, save for some pillowcases and extra blankets.

Dr. Edwards words ringing in her ears, Beth staggered into the bathroom, bracing her hands on the sink to steady herself as she was hit with a wave of dizziness. She took a few deep breaths, then studied her reflection in the mirror, horrified at her own appearance. Her scalp was crusty with dried blood along her hairline, her face filthy, and the crude stitches on her forehead, an ugly eyesore. She would likely be left with a scar. Present circumstances, she knew that mattered very little.

True to Edwards word, a fresh towel and a clean set of scrubs sat folded neatly on the bench beside the tiny shower stall that was nowhere near as luxurious as the one she shared with Daryl back at the lodge. Turning to close and lock the bathroom door behind her, she quickly peeled her hospital gown off, kicking it to the side as she turned on the shower and climbed underneath the warm spray of water.

The pressure was lousy, but the water felt good. Closing her eyes, Beth leaned back against the shower wall, wrapping her arms around herself, imagining it was Daryl that was holding her. Imagining she was safe within the circle of his arms, and finally allowed herself to break down. Her tears fell swiftly, mingling with the water hitting her face, as she clamped her hand over her mouth, not wanting anyone to hear her painful sobs. She sunk to her knees as powerful spasms of grief rocked her tiny frame.

Were her loved ones safe? Were they out looking for her and the others now? _Was there even a trail to follow_? Carol, Gabriel and Noah, were they alive? Had Eugene made it out safely? Had they found Sasha? Where was her ugly little one-eyed mutt? Her heart hurt knowing how worried Rick and Carl would be for Judith, how upset Maggie would be after they had just found their way back to one another, _and Daryl_ ... Poor, sweet Daryl would find some way to blame himself for this. That hurt more than anything, knowing how he would torture himself, and knowing she couldn't protect him from doing so.

Pushing her face under the water, Beth washed away the tears as she forced herself back into a standing position. She needed to have her wits about her, needed to be strong for Judith, and Tara too, if need be. Quickly scrubbing herself clean, she turned the water off and climbed out of the shower, shrugging into the clean scrubs. She found a brush in the vanity and quickly drug it through her hair, then took a seat on the bed, waiting for Officer Lerner to return.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" Dawn demanded, slamming her office door as Gorman walked through it.

Gorman threw his hands up defensively. "Hey, don't blame me. This was Walsh and Forbes brain child. I just went for the ride."

"I left you in charge," Dawn tossed back, pointing her finger at him.

"And I handled things," Gorman replied, folding his arms over his chest. "I brought you back two new wards."

"We're kidnapping people now? That is not how we do things around here. And a baby? We are not prepared to deal with that! You've placed us all in a very precarious situation. So again," she hissed, taking a menacing step towards him, "what the hell were you thinking?"

"Relax," Gorman said, taking a seat behind Dawn's desk. "The group was gone. Forbes and Walsh set it up pretty well. I hate to admit, it was damn near flawless. They baited the strong ones and then we came in to pick off the weak." He grabbed the apple laying on the corner of her desk and rubbed it on his uniform shirt before sinking his teeth into it, the juices running down his jaw.

Dawn threw her hands up in the air and began pacing the confines of her office. "You were supposed to be looking for Noah, not looking for trouble."

"We found Noah," Gorman replied, his mouth stuffed full of apple. "He was with their people. Left behind ...one of the weak, naturally."

"Noah was there?" Dawn's face instantly registering a shocked expression, "And so you just left him? _Idiots_!" She slammed her fist down on the desk. "He'll lead them right to us."

"He's dead," Gorman tossed back. "Shot in the back while his coward ass was running away. Rotters probably damn near picked 'em clean by now, " he smiled.

"You're sure?"

Gorman nodded, his smile broadening as he continued eating the apple. "If he didn't die outright, he certainly bled out with no one there to help him."

"And what makes you think he didn't say something about where he was to these people before this all went down?"

"Because he's Noah," Gorman replied nonchalantly, as if that was an answer.

Dawn was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. "It's a shame, though. Noah was a damn hard worker." Dawn sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Probably one of the best we've ever had."

Gorman shrugged. "He was trouble. And besides, they'll be others. Not like there's a plethora of safe places to hide out there. There's always people, Dawn. As for the kid," he shrugged again, "we're in a damn hospital, go hit up the maternity ward. I don't care what you think of me, I wasn't leavin' no damn baby behind."

"Yeah, I'm so sure it was your conscious that got the best of you," Dawn rolled her eyes.

Gorman leaned back in the chair, folding his arms behind his head, a cocky smile twisting his lips. "You know me so well. Sure, I needed some leverage. Had to play nice, make a good show to start workin' on that lil' blonde."

"Her name is Beth," Her eyes rolling back into her head again, Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, fixing Gorman with a scathing look. "And you haven't worked shit, because she's the one who so pointedly informed me of the circumstances that brought her here."

"She's just riled up right now," Gorman shrugged. "She'll settle soon enough."

"What's the matter, Gorman?" Dawn asked, laying her palms flat on the desk, she leaned towards him, a smirk on her lips, "Joan ain't doing it for you no more?"

Gorman drug his hand down his face and laughed. He knew she was baiting him. "Call me old fashioned, I just don't like it when they fight," he finished with another shrug of his shoulders.

"Your disgusting," Dawn replied, pushing herself back up.

Gorman shrugged yet again, still beaming up at her. "I've been called worse," he said, straightening himself up in the chair, then added, "and by far better people."

"Clever," Dawn snapped. "That girl won't let you touch her. Not willingly."

Gorman stood, and strutted smugly like a peacock towards the door. "You'll see," he insisted. "When Forbes starts sniffing around ... Compared to him, I'm like her damn white knight in shining armor."

"Well I'm glad to see you have it all worked out," Dawn glared up at him. "Don't pull this shit again," she warned him.

"You better watch your tone, Lerner. The word in the herd is your popularity is waning. Don't piss off your allies when you may need them later. Remember that people around here never really liked the fact that you weren't even a commanding officer," Gorman hissed, looking down at her.

"And you remember," she hissed back, not to be intimidated, "I was the only one here with the balls big enough to take down Hansen." She reached past him and opened the door, intending to have the last word. "Have a nice evening," she dismissed him.

Gorman snorted, not bothering to hide his disdain as he slithered past her and disappeared down the hallway, passing Dr. Edwards with a tray of food.

"Is that for her?" Dawn asked him, nodding towards Beth's room.

"Yes," Dr. Edwards answered, bobbing his head. "I looked in on the other one, but the sedation still hasn't worn off."

"Maybe that's just as well," Dawn replied with a shake of her head. "She's got a big mouth. Hopefully this one can talk some sense into her."

"Maybe," Dr. Edwards said, as Dawn pulled her office door closed and reached for the ring of keys dangling on her belt, nodding her head in the direction of Beth's room, indicating for him to continue walking.

"She'd probably be more cooperative if you move the child to her room," balancing the tray, he stopped, waiting for Dawn to key into Beth's room.

"We'll see," Dawn reached for the tray.

* * *

It hadn't been a long wait. Not really. But it felt like hours while Beth waited, watching the hands on the clock above the door slowly tick away the minutes. The lock clicked and then the door swung open, the officer Dawn stepping through it, a tray in her arms, she kicked it closed again with her foot. Plastering what Beth assumed was a fake smile on her face, she briskly crossed the room and laid the tray on the bedside table and then pulled up a seat on the rolling stool the doctor had occupied earlier.

"Eat," she ordered Beth with a wave of her hand towards the tray, then smiled again, continuing with a friendly demeanor.

Beth didn't have much of an appetite, but lifted the lid off of the tray anyway, in an attempt to please her hostess. Reaching for a slice of tomato, she nibbled on the corner of it, waiting expectantly for the officer to say something, her eyes catching the two cylindrical white pills poorly hidden under the stale saltine crackers on her plate.

"Dr. Edwards says you're feeling better?"

Beth nodded, continuing to nibble on the tomato slice, figuring it was best to let this woman do the talking and just listen for the time being. She nudged the pills under the crackers with her fingertip, pretending to push her food around.

Dawn took a deep breath, then blew it out impatiently, as if she was carefully mulling over her words. "There's really no easy way to say this," she began. "Regardless of the circumstances that brought you here, you're here. Even if I was willing to spare a car and weapons, you and your friend are both injured, and precious resources have already been wasted -"

"We didn't ask for your help," Beth reminded her, doing her best to keep a polite tone.

"You'd of preferred we left you and your injured friend untreated? Your baby unfed?" Dawn's reply was accusatory.

"I'd of _preferred_ to not be here at all. I'd _prefer_ to be in my own bed. I'd _prefer_ to be with my group, with my loved ones. Not clubbed over the head and drug away like some primitive cave woman," Beth shot back, unable to hide the hostility she was feeling.

"The officer who did that to you will be dealt with," Dawn replied. "It's not how I run things, but it still changes nothing. You're here now and this is where you'll remain. At least until your friend is well enough to travel," Dawns tone was final. She straightened her shirt, picking at an imaginary fuzz and continued. "In the meantime, you'll be expected to work. Everyone pulls their own weight around here. We have a system. It's not perfect, but it works."

"A system?" Beth inquired.

Dawn nodded. "Yes. My officers patrol the outside, keep away the dead and the riff-raff, bringing in other survivors. The wards pay for this protection through service. They keep things running smoothly on the inside," she explained. "One hand washes the other."

 _Like indentured servants_ , Beth thought to herself but remained silent.

"You'll start tomorrow. You'll help Eric in the Cafeteria. If Edwards needs you, you'll help him with his patient rounds."

"My baby-" Beth began.

"Is fine where she is for the night," Dawn interrupted her, rising from the stool. "We'll see how things go tomorrow, and make the necessary arrangements to bring her here. I assure you that she's safe and comfortable."

"But I -"

"Need to finish eating and get a good nights sleep," Dawn cut her off yet again. "The generators for the wards rooms automatically kick off when the clocks strike nine PM. They kick on again at six AM. Either myself or Edwards will come and let you out."

"You're locking me in?" Beth asked, although she wasn't really surprised.

"For now," Dawn replied with a nod of her head, turning towards the door. "More so for your own protection," she added as she pulled open the heavy door and took her exit without so much as a backwards glance.

Frustrated, Beth fought the urge to hurl her tray at the closing door, as the lock clicked into place once again. Instead, she flicked the stale saltine crackers to the side and picked up the white pills, examining them and recognizing that they were prescription strength ibuprofen. From Edwards maybe? Did he know she was lying about how she felt? If that was the case, she couldn't fathom why he felt the need to hide them on her tray. Why not just give them to her?

Tucking them under her pillow for safekeeping, Beth pushed the raw vegetables around on her tray, with no desire to eat, feeling more isolated than when it was just her and Gabriel out on the road, her sitting alone with all her thoughts at night while Gabe rested and she kept watch. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this mess, no idea how she would make it back to the group. She just knew that she had to try.

True to Dawns words, her room disintegrated into darkness at nine PM sharp, startling Beth. Her eyes blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the blackness that enveloped her, her ears straining to hear anything, but everything was silent, there was nothing to hear. Lying down on her side, she pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them, as she prayed for sleep to come swiftly. Hoping she could at least see her loved ones in her dreams.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realize that in the show, Dawn's character was actually a lieutenant (commanding officer), but for narrative purposes in my story, it suits her better not to be.
> 
> Also, the title for this chapter came from Seasons After's cover of Cry Little Sister (the theme from the 80's movie, The Lost Boys).


	34. We'll drink up our grief, and pine for summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noah is finally awake. Will the information he provides lead them to Beth, Judith and Tara?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies on this ugly rainy Sunday with no TWD! It's going to be a looooong hiatus. Sigh, but at least we have fanfiction, right? This week, a longer chapter, as promised - but next week ...Next week my lovelies, I have a HUGE surprise for you! Next week: a MEGA chapter that was so damn long that I had to break it up into two separate chapters! So next week, I will be posting Chapter 35 and 36 together as a Two-Part Double Feature! Stay tuned for more A/N after the chapter and Happy Reading! ~Lis

Daryl immediately stood, swiping away his tears with the back of his hand, using his other to assist Maggie up from the floor. She thanked him, leading the way out of the bedroom and back towards the common room, Glenn's arm draped protectively over her shoulders, and Daryl was grateful that he didn't say anything. Damn situation was awkward as hell already. Extinguishing the lamp, he followed closely behind them, but they couldn't move fast enough, as far as he was concerned.

Noah sat propped up with a mound of couch pillows behind him, sipping some water with Carol's assistance, as she warned him to slow down, the group all crowded around him like a bunch of preschoolers gathering for story time. Eagerly, Daryl pushed his way through them, kneeling beside the foot of the couch by Rick. They shared a worried look, not wanting to bombard Noah, but time was certainly of the essence.

Noah raised his hand, indicating he had enough to drink and slowly settled back against the pillows, as Rick cleared his throat. "How're you feelin'?" He asked, rather lamely, but figuring he needed to start somewhere.

"Like I got shot," Noah replied with a half smile.

"Ya look like shit," Daryl observed, taking in his sallow appearance.

"Yeah well, you get shot and we'll see how hot you look," Noah tossed back, the smile on his face fading quickly, as he began to recant the earlier events of the day that had resulted in his injury and the kidnapping of Beth, Judith and Tara.

"So it was you who lit the barn on fire?" Glenn asked, smoothing his hand down Maggie's back.

"Yeah," Noah admitted. "I thought it was the best way to get your attention, send out a signal, hoping someone would see the smoke in the distance. I knew I couldn't take them on alone, there was too many of them, so I figured I'd try and stall them. As you can see, that didn't work out so well for me," he sighed. "I think Beth saved my life. She lunged at the one who fired on me first. If not for her, I'd probably be dead. Forbes is as good a shot as he is an asshole."

"You said you knew where they took the girls?" Rick persisted. "Do you remember?"

Noah nodded. "I do. I was there for months. My father and I got out together, but he didn't make it, got bit in the parking lot right after we escaped. We hid out until .." Noah shooh his head. "They were looking for me, trying to bring me back. That's when you found me," Noah turned his sights on Daryl.

"Shoulda told us they were lookin' fer ya. Shoulda told _me_ ," Daryl growled.

"I thought I'd be safe with your group. Look," Noah shifted uncomfortably under Daryl's intense stare. "What happened today, that's not how Dawn operates. They don't go after large groups. They pick off little ones ...weak and injured ...easy to manipulate. Dawn's ruthless, but she's not stupid. What happened today went down behind her back. I guarantee you that much."

"Dawn?" Rick asked.

"The leader," Noah nodded. "Just barely, though. Manipulative bitch, too. That woman will say and do anything to keep her grasp on power there," Noah replied vehemently. "And her grip is slipping. The troublesome cops don't want to listen to her, and the good ones still listen out of some warped sense of duty, I guess," he shrugged.

"Is she at least reasonable?" Carol asked, adjusting Noah's pillows to help sit him up more comfortably.

Noah snorted. "If it benefits her. Dawn doesn't do anything that doesn't benefit her."

"We'll _make_ it benefit her," Rick growled.

"Where are they?" Daryl was blunt, his patience long ago expired.

"A hospital a few miles from where you found me. Haywood Regional," Noah answered.

"How many?" Rick asked, as they continued to pepper Noah with questions.

Noah winced, bracing his shoulder as he shifted into a more comfortable position. "Twelve officers, the doctor and the wards."

Rick drug his hand across his face, they were severely outnumbered, especially with so many wounded. "Those are not good odds."

"Like I said, not all of the officers are bad news, and the wards wouldn't get involved. They'd be too afraid of Dawn's retribution. _I've_ experienced it first hand," Noah nodded to his leg, indicating his limp.

"Wards?" Maggie asked curiously, noting that Noah had used the term twice.

"It's what we were referred to as, the patients and the people living at the hospital." Noah's nostrils flared in anger. "More like slaves. They do all the work there and in return, the officers are supposed to protect them." He lowered his gaze, "but most of them are just mistreated and abused."

"Work?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah. Basically, they're there to take care of all the officers needs."

" _Needs_?" Daryl hissed, not liking the sound of the word and all its implications.

"The cooking. The cleaning. Dawn likes everything tidy," Noah spat, a mocking tone to his voice. "And yes, even sexual." He lowered his eyes as he continued. "Some of the wards do it willingly. Others ..." He let his voice trail off, as there was no need to finish, everyone pretty much got the hint.

Daryl clenched his teeth so tight he thought he jaw would crack as he stood abruptly and began pacing the common room, needing to do something - _anything_ , but just sit here. Rick stood, and moved to the service desk, grabbing up a pen and some lose sheets of paper, while Carol stepped forward to place a supportive hand on Daryl's shoulder. He accepted it, laying his hand over hers as Rick handed the pen and paper off to Noah, instructing him to draw a map of the hospital, inside and out. Noah got right to work, explaining that the hospital had only one working entrance and exit that they used - the employee entrance by the back parking lot, as the rest of the hospital was overrun by Walkers. He quickly scribbled a map, marking off important rooms and who slept where, who would possibly be an ally, and who would shoot first and ask questions later. While he was drawing, Rick signaled Daryl and Glenn and headed out onto the front porch.

"We need ta go Rick," Daryl's voice was pained, urgent.

"I know," Rick nodded. "But you heard Noah. There's a lot of them, and we are depleted. We need a plan, we can't just rush in there. These people went to a lot of trouble here today. They ain't dumb and they certainly have the tactical skills and the manpower."

Glenn shook his head. "We're gonna need transportation too. We can't stay here. Noah says they won't come after us, but how do we know that for sure? We'd be sitting ducks." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued, "We piled ourselves in the cars we have, but we also had barely any supplies and no injured people to transport before. My wife is pregnant, I can't just sit by and let her be a target."

Rick pushed a shaky hand through his hair, then drug his sleeve across his forehead, wracking his brain. Too much had happened today and they were all physically, mentally and emotionally drained. "We need a map, for starters."

Daryl was two steps ahead of him, opening up the Jeep and yanking the glove compartment open, retrieving the maps they had, as well as the ones they had acquired at the gas station the day they decided to make the trek up the mountain to the lodge. He kicked the Jeep door shut and began pulling open one of the maps, handing it off to Glenn who spread it on the hood of the mini van. The three of them leaned over it, determining what their next move would be.

"It's only nine miles away," Rick observed, pointing to the hospital on the map. "All this time, they've been right in our back yard."

Ricks comment sparked a memory, Daryl recalling the day that he, Glenn and Bob had returned from their run, barely beating the storm home. He had _sworn_ he'd seen taillights in the road up ahead. Could that have been them out looking for Noah? Had they seen them that day and turned around? It was later that night when he had sworn he'd seen Merle's face peering in at him and Beth from outside the window. A chill worked its way up and down his spine as Daryl realized that this was potentially all his fault.

"Look," Glenn's voice pulled Daryl from his wayward thoughts as he pointed to a spot on the map. "There's a charter bus depot six and a half miles from us. That would be perfect to transport the injured."

"If there's a workin' bus there," Daryl was skeptical. "An' we got plenty a'fuel, but it ain't diesel."

"Look, it wouldn't hurt to try, and it's not far out of the way. A bus like that is big enough for us all if need be, and it would fit all of our supplies and be a comfortable ride for Sasha and Noah," Glenn argued his point.

Truth be told, Daryl didn't want to waste any precious time on side missions, but Glenn had a point. And if the events that unfolded today were in any way partly because of him, he owed them all that much. "I'll go," he volunteered. At this point he would volunteer to walk through fire if that would get them on the road any quicker.

"I'm with you," Glenn nodded. "Whatever the outcome, we'll make it work."

Rick stood back and placed his hands on his hips. "That'll leave us the time we need to pack up here. I need to stay behind. We can't send all of our strongest out together again. Michonne, Rosita and Abe can help me hold down the fort, provided he doesn't drink himself into a complete stupor tonight."

"Don't count on that," Daryl shook his head, reaching to fold up the maps, he tucked the one with their route in his back pocket and followed Rick and Glenn back into the lodge. Noah was still dishing information about the hospital, but he had finished drawing the maps and handed them to Rick who took a seat before the fireplace and began letting the group know the plan.

They would all try to get some rest with what was left of the night. At sunrise, Daryl and Glenn would head to the charter bus station to search for alternate transportation while the others would hang back and pack up as many supplies as they hoped to fit. They'd wait for the cover of darkness and then they'd get their people back - somehow. They hadn't really worked out all the details just yet.

"But where will we go?" Michonne asked, voicing what most of the others were thinking.

"We haven't thought that far in advance," Rick admitted, rubbing his hand on his beard stubble. "But we'll figure it out. Don't really matter where we go, as long as we get there together." He stood, motioning to Carl to lie down by the fire. "Let's try and get a little rest with what's left of the night."

On that note, Daryl made his way to the front door, still hanging off of its hinges, and boarded it up as best as he could, then took a seat on the grand staircase by the bar, watching as the others settled in, leaning up against anything that was moderately comfortable to get a few hours of shut eye. It was a stark contrast to the comfortable beds they had all been sleeping in last night. Who even knew when they'd have that luxury again? Unlike the others, Daryl wasn't even going to waste the effort trying, he knew sleep would elude him, and so he decided to take watch while the others rested.

Spreading a thin blanket over Carl, Rick made his way to the staircase. "I'm gonna go see if I can talk some sense into Abe," he said, squeezing Daryl's shoulder as he passed him and ascended the stairs.

"Holler if ya need me," Daryl called after him, twisting to pull Beth's knife from the sheath at his hip.

He turned it over in the dim firelight, studying its ivory hilt. Dainty and petite, like its owner, it was also capable of wielding great harm - _also_ , like its owner. He didn't have any doubts that Beth could take care of herself. She was stronger than most ever gave her credit for, and that was definitely to her advantage. The rational part of him knew this. The irrational part that was in love with her was harder to convince. If anyone even dared to put their hands on her ...

Suddenly Carol was there beside him, thankfully distracting him from the horrible direction his thoughts were about to take. Carefully lowering herself down, she took a seat aside of him on the stairs.

"I figured you wouldn't get any rest. That's pretty stupid, considering you'll need to have your wits about you tomorrow," she scolded him in a motherly fashion.

"Yeh? Why ain't ya sleepin' then?" Daryl grumbled. Truthfully, he was happy for her company. Today she had been the old Carol he knew and loved. Comforting, caring, maternal, despite her own injuries. ... _exactly_ what everyone had _needed_.

"Apparently, I'm as stupid as you," she tossed back, leaning her good arm on her bent knee, a rather pathetic attempt of a smile etched on her lips. "Besides, misery loves company," she shrugged, rolling her good shoulder, then wincing because it hurt anyway. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Daryl snorted in reply, turning Beth's knife over in his hand.

Carol's eyes fell on Beth's blade. "We're gonna get them back."

"I know," Daryl replied, doing his best to sound confident.

They sat silently for a few minutes, their eyes roaming over the sleeping group below them. Carl curled up in front of the fire, Maggie and Glenn cuddled up on the recliner, Tyrese in the oversized armchair beside the couch Sasha was spread out on. Rosita, Gabriel and Eugene stretched out on the floor, Michonne propped up against the couch Noah occupied, as always, just a few feet away from Carl.

"It's good ta have ya back," Daryl turned to Carol, peering up at her, his eyes peeping through the hair that always hung in his face, even after Beth's haircut.

Carol drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "I'm not back, Daryl. I am who I am now. Accept it or don't."

"I don't believe that," Daryl replied, shaking his hair from his eyes so he could see her face clearly. She looked tired, the dark circles under her eyes seemed intensified from the shadows the flickering fire cast on her features.

"Rick says we get to come back, but it's not true," she gazed back at him, almost looking past him. "I'm not sure I even want to come back."

"Ya made a mistake, Carol. Everyone forgave ya, even Tyrese. It's time to move on," Daryl argued, his attention turning back to Beth's blade.

"But that's the thing Daryl," Carol sighed, pausing a moment before she spoke again. "I don't _feel_ like I made a mistake. I was trying to save lives and I'd probably do it all over again if I had to."

"I was tryin' ta save lives too," Daryl shot back. "Drove all the way out ta the middle of a damn herd ta get that medicine. On foot fer most of tha way, too."

"And in the end, it hadn't mattered anyway," she reminded him.

"It _did_ matter," Daryl grumbled in reply. "At least had ta try ..." His voice trailed off. "Ya took innocent lives Carol. Members of our group-"

"You think I don't know that?" She cried, interrupting him. "That I don't think about them every damn day? _Every. Damn. Day_ ," she repeated, her body shuddering.

Daryl reached into his vest pocket for his cigarettes and pulled one out, pausing when Carol reached and took one for herself. He usually went outside to smoke, but circumstances tonight were different, and his nerves were frayed at the edges. Striking a match, he leaned to light her cigarette before lighting his own, then shook his hand to extinguish it, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out through his nose. He nodded when Carol mumbled her thanks, pinching the match between his fingers before discarding it on the floor. Not like they'd be sticking around here much longer anyway.

Carol took a deep drag, coughing as she exhaled and cleared her throat. "You know, today when I was falling from the scaffold, for just a split second I thought, this is it, I can finally just close my eyes and let the nothingness overtake me ...I'll _finally_ be at peace ..." She took a smaller drag this time and continued, exhaling as she spoke. "And I was okay with that ... _hoped_ for it even."

Daryl stared at her, remaining silent, allowing her to vent, thankful that she felt safe enough to do so again.

"I killed Lizzie," she blurted out, suddenly. "She was sick," Carol quickly added, rocking back and forth to comfort herself, she brought her shaking hand to her mouth and took another drag of her cigarette. "She killed Mikah. She tried to kill Judith ... I didn't have a choice." She paused for a moment, taking a few more drags of her cigarette. "Rick was right to banish me," Carol admitted. "I should have stayed away. Should have kept on driving ..."

"Why didn't ya?" Daryl asked. He knew why, and it was time that Carol accepted and admitted it to herself.

"I truly don't know. Maybe I'm a creature of habit? Maybe I don't know how to be alone?"

"Cuz ya don't belong alone," Daryl answered for her. "Cuz yer place is _here_ wit yer family ...tha people who care 'bout ya."

A tiny sob worked its way up Carol's throat and she clamped her good hand over her mouth to suppress it as a lone tear snaked its way down her cheek. She took a moment to compose herself, throwing her hand up to ward Daryl away when he leaned over to comfort her. "I don't want people to care for me, and I don't want to care about people anymore. This world isn't meant for that. If you do, it just exploits you for it, and uses it against you. If I was smart, I'd get into one of those cars and just leave."

"It's human nature ta care," Daryl argued. "Prob'ly tha only thing left that's still right wit tha world. Fer most people, anyway," he added. "It's how ya know yer still human an' not just another monster." He took another long drag of his smoke and stood, replacing Beth's knife to the sheath at his hip. "So I wouldn't leave anyone jus' fer carin', cuz sooner or later, that means yer gonna have ta leave everyone."

He needed Carol, just like he needed every member of this rag-tag group he now considered his family. And whether she realized it or not, _she needed them too_.

Carol looked up at him, her eyes brimming with the tears she was fighting so hard to hold back, but Daryl was done talking. He'd said his peace, and he hoped his words had struck a chord and sunk in. He stubbed his cigarette out on the banister and extended her his hand, gently helping her rise to her feet and surprised them both by wrapping his massive arms around her, folding her into the hug he knew she so desperately needed. Carol tensed up for only a moment, then sagged against him, and Daryl felt her tears soak through his shirt as she finally let go and let them fall.

He held her steady while she cried. Maybe it was for just a few minutes, or maybe a few hours, Daryl wasn't sure. Time seemed irrelevant for the moment, and his friend needed him. Smoothing his hand down her back, Daryl was mindful of her arm as he gently eased away. "Ya good?" He asked, looking down at her.

Carol nodded and accepted Daryl's assistance to help lower her back onto the stairs, as he took his seat beside her once more. Needing to keep his hands busy, he began picking at the dirt stuck up under his fingernails.

"When I said you had changed, that you were different ... I was right." Carol wiped her tears away with her good hand, and continued. "You _are_ different."

"I ain't," Daryl shook his head.

"You _are_ ," Carol insisted. "It's like, before you were a boy, and now," she paused a moment, swiping away another errant tear. "Now ... you're a man."

Daryl shrugged, unsure how to respond.

"Those things I said ..." Carol let her voice trail off, pausing to collect her thoughts. "I was wrong. Loving her hasn't made you weaker. You're stronger than I've ever seen you. It scared me because, if you're strong, then you don't need me anymore."

"I always need ya," Daryl corrected her. It wasn't to make her feel better, it was the damn truth. He _did_ need her. They were kindred spirits. Beth knew his heart and Carol knew his mind - a beautiful, delicate balance. And while the love he had for Carol was very different than the love he had for Beth - he _did_ in fact, love her too.

Carol gave him a sad smile, wiping at the new tears springing from her eyes, unable to control their flow now that she had finally succumbed to them. Daryl raised his arm and gently tugged her against him, again offering her his support - his shoulder to lean on, both figuratively and literally.

"How's Sasha?" He asked, attempting to shift the topic, knowing Carol wanted to compose herself. He'd meant to inquire earlier, but the events of the day just kept piling up.

"She's pretty banged up, but nothing is broken. I gave her some Tylenol for the pain, but I wish I had something with an anti-inflammatory in it. If I could get the swelling to come down, it would ease a lot of the discomfort she's feeling."

Daryl leaned back, reaching into his vest pocket and pulled out a few packets of Motrin. "What about these?" He asked, handing them to her.

Carol took the convenience packs, examining them in the dim firelight. "Yes! Where did you get these?"

"Gas station," Daryl answered. "Got more back in my room if ya need 'em."

"I'll need them," Carol replied, leaning forward to shove the packets in the back pocket of her pants. "They'll help speed up the healing process."

"She talk to ya at all?"

"A bit," Carol nodded her head yes. "Not much, because it hurts her to talk. Why?"

"They didn't ...?" Daryl couldn't finish the sentence.

"No." Carol quickly replied. "I asked her. It's clear from the degree they beat her that she fought back the entire time. Maybe they figured it was more trouble than it was worth."

" _Maybe_ ," Daryl hissed.

"Don't," Carol's voice was suddenly harsh, knowing immediately where his mind was going. "Don't let your mind wander there, Daryl. You need to stay focused. That girl was raised by Hershel, trained by Rick, Shane and you. She's strong where so many of us are lacking. I firmly believe Beth's got the mental fortitude to overcome anything."

Daryl knew she meant well, but Carol's words did very little to ease his fears. He cast a solemn look towards the front door, willing the sun to just hurry up and rise already.

Carol's gaze followed his, and _again_ , she knew exactly what he was thinking. "You know, if you close your eyes and try to get some sleep, it'll be sun-up all the more sooner. I'll keep watch until Rick comes back down," she assured him.

Daryl figured it was best to at least try, rather than let his unsettling thoughts consume him. Gently removing his arm from her shoulders, Daryl stood. "Still wanna leave?" He asked her.

Carol sighed. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I can tell you that I'm not going anywhere ...at least, not right now."

Daryl nodded, satisfied with her answer for the time being, and above all, appreciating the fact that she had been truthful with him. The trust between them had been broken and it would take some time to repair it. _Baby steps_.

"Go," she urged him, with a nod of her head.

Daryl complied, finding an empty spot under the large bay windows, he eased himself down, bending his arm back behind his head to serve as a pillow, as he gazed up at the lodge ceiling. It didn't take long to conjure up Beth's image. It never did. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep, exhaustion claiming his body quickly.

_"... And that, that's a relief. We'll drink up our grief and pine for summer ... And we'll buy beer to shot gun, and we lay in the lawn, and we'll be good."_

Beth's beautiful voice drifted across him like a melodic breeze, the song she'd sang that first night they took cover in the funeral home, and Daryl knew instantly that he was dreaming.

_"Now I'm laughing at my boredom, and my string of failed attempts ..."_

She stood a ways before him, her back to him, staring out into a landscape that was unfamiliar to Daryl. It was untouched by chaos and tragedy, and looked almost as if it was before the turn had occurred. Houses stood clustered together, children playing in the yards, old ladies in sun hats tending their garden patches. It looked ... _normal_. Right, somehow.

_" ...Cuz you think that it's important, and I welcome the sentiment ..."_

Rick was there too, he and Michonne snuggling Judith between them, Carl making goofy faces to evoke a toothy grin from his baby sister. Maggie and Glenn sat on a blanket in the grass, gently smoothing the back of a baby that was napping beneath the rays of the warm sun above. They were all there. Carol, Tara, Sasha, Noah, Gabriel, Abe and his crew ...everyone, spread out smiling and laughing. It looked ... _normal_. Right, somehow.

_" ...and we talk on the phone at night, until it's daylight, and I feel clever..."_

His eyes returning to Beth once more, he took in her appearance, admiring her backside. Her hair was unbound, blowing in the warm breeze, flipping about her shoulders. She was wearing that dress with the blue cabbage roses, probably because it was the last thing he'd seen her in. It looked ... _normal_. Right, somehow.

_" ...and I hear, the slow in your speech ...yeah, you're half asleep. Say goodnight ..."_

Beth looked over her shoulder, her smile was warm and inviting, the love she bore him shining clearly in the depths of her deep blue eyes. She turned fully towards him then, her hands placed protectively over the fullness of her swollen, pregnant belly, and ...Daryl was in awe. There was no fear here in this place. Daryl stepped forward, reaching apprehensively towards her ripe belly, marveling at the wonder that his child rested safely within her, as Beth reached up to gently cup his stubbly cheek. It _felt_ ...normal. Right, somehow.

_" ...So we'll drink beer all day, and our guards we'll give way ...And we'll be good."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All shipping wars aside, and whether you view the love between Daryl and Carol as romantic or platonic - the fact is, they really do love each other. Don't you think that's beautiful? I hope this chapter did that relationship (which I clearly view as platonic) some justice. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The song featured here that Beth was singing in Daryl's dream is 'Be Good' by Waxahatchee - also performed by Emily Kinney in Season 4, episode 13, 'Alone', and then again on her very own re-released album 'Expired Love'. I do not own the song "Be Good". The song was borrowed for fictional purposes. Any lyrics used and its copyrights are the rightful property of their respective owners.


	35. His strength in her heart, Her pain on his shoulders - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being briefly reunited with Judith and Tara, Beth is put to work. As she learns the mechanics of the hospital, she is left to wonder who she can trust when everyone appears to be out for themselves. Part One of Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two part - two chapter Double Feature, as promised. 
> 
> Happy Memorial Day and Thank You - to all of those who have served, and those who currently do. 
> 
> For those of you who are always so kind to leave reviews: I truly appreciate the feedback - your opinions/words mean so much to us writers who pour so much time, energy and emotions into our work. Those who don't leave reviews: I appreciate you too ...I appreciate all of you who have invested your time into this story (especially after the couple of hiatuses I've taken). Thank you to all of you, from the bottom of my heart! 
> 
> And as always ...so MUCH love to my "editor" Ben, who after almost two years is still here helping with the "fine tuning" - you are a very great and dear friend!

"Wake up," Dawn's grating voice barked down at her, as Beth rolled over in the bed to face her, immediately sitting up as Dawn leaned down and thrust Judith into her arms.

"Your daughters hungry," Dawn said, placing one of the Gerber jars Beth had packed, down on the bedside table beside her unfinished tray of food from last night. "Feed her and then go to room two-fourteen, down the hall. Your friends awake. I'll be in to get you shortly, so don't dawdle."

Beth hugged Judith close against her, relief coursing through every fiber of her being, as she pulled back and looked the infant over, making sure she was alright. "I missed you," she mumbled against Judith's soft hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Judith flapped her pudgy arms in reply, whining as her eyes spotted the jar of baby food.

"You want this?" Beth asked, reaching for the jar. She settled Judith comfortably on her lap and twisted the cap open, reaching for the spoon on her tray and quickly fed the hungry baby, laughing as her mouth bobbed eagerly towards every spoonful she scooped out.

When the jar was empty, Beth dropped it onto her tray, her own stomach beginning to growl as she realized she hadn't eaten anything in over twenty-four hours. Transferring Judith to her hip, she stood, reaching under her pillow to grab the pills before cautiously making her way out into the hallway. A petite female officer with a name tag that read "Shepherd" stood vigil by her doorway. She nodded at Beth with a brief smile, pointing down the hallway, indicating where Beth needed to go, as an elderly heavy-set man entered her room, emerging seconds later with her discarded food tray.

The door to Tara's room was propped open and Beth hurried inside, quickly rushing to Tara's side. They embraced, squeezing Judith between them, as Beth sat down in the chair beside Tara's bed, tugging it closer and took in her friends appearance. Tara was sweaty and pale, her foot casted and elevated with some suspension mechanism at the foot of the hospital bed, but the fight still remained in her eyes.

"I don't understand," Beth uttered. "Your ankle was swollen, but it wasn't broken."

"No, it wasn't," Tara agreed. "Until that bastard who hit you kicked me when he was pulling me out of the car here."

"But why?" Beth asked, horrified.

Tara rolled her shoulders, shrugging. "Probably because I spit in his face and told him I liked girls when he groped me. Looks like he did a number on you too," Tara observed, studying the crude stitches on Beth's forehead. "How are you feeling?" She asked, lowering her voice as a woman with long curly brown hair, dressed in scrubs entered the room, pushing a rolling food cart in front of her.

"I'm a little dizzy," Beth admitted, once the woman had left. "The doctor said I have a mild concussion. But you ...how are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

"Hell yes!" Tara exclaimed. "And my foot itches like a bitch."

"They didn't give you anything for pain?"

"I was knocked out up until a few hours ago. That hag Dawn said I could have some ibuprofen when I learned some manners. I wasn't fond of her bedside manner, and apparently she didn't like that I felt the need to tell her so," Tara snapped, as feisty as ever.

It dawned on her then, the realization of why Dr. Edwards had hidden the pain pills on her food tray last night. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled them out and dropped them into Tara's palm. "Here, take these. Quickly," she added, reaching for one of the bottles of water on the rolling food cart and pushing it into Tara's hands.

Tara popped them into her mouth and took a swig from the water bottle, washing them down. "You think it's safe to eat the food? I'm starving."

"Me too," Beth admitted, leaning over to pull the lids off of the food trays, revealing a modest breakfast of some fruit cocktail cups and some more stale saltine crackers. She handed one of the fruit cups to Tara and then eagerly dug into her own, bouncing her knee to keep Judith quiet.

"Did you talk to the hag?" Tara spoke with her mouth stuffed with fruit.

"She said we can leave when you're better," Beth replied.

Tara stopped eating, her eyes fixing Beth with a cynical stare. "You don't believe her, do you?"

"Not a single word," Beth shook her head no. "But we're gonna get out of here. I don't know how yet, but I'm gonna get us out."

Tara returned to polishing off her fruit cup as Dawn entered the room with the same curly haired woman who had pushed in the food cart. "This is Joan," she introduced her. "She's going to take the baby for a few hours while you work in the cafeteria."

Beth clung to Judith protectively, unwilling to give her up after just finally getting her back. "Can't she just stay with Tara?"

Dawn ignored the question, ordering Joan to take the baby, the woman mouthing "I'm sorry," as she scooped Judith up and left the room.

"Don't question my orders," Dawn spoke in a no-nonsense tone, eyeing them both coolly. "I can be your friend or your enemy, but really, that's entirely up to you. Now Beth, follow me. You," she pointed a finger at Tara," try and keep your mouth closed for awhile."

Tara flipped her middle finger at Dawn's back as she left the hospital room, waiting for Beth in the hallway just outside the door.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Beth whispered, squeezing Tara's hand as she rose and joined Dawn outside in the hallway.

Following Dawn down the long winding corridor, they stepped through an emergency exit and descended a small flight of stairs, passing through a set of swinging double doors to what was clearly the kitchen portion of the hospital cafeteria. Beth eyed the doors they passed, wondering where they led.

"Don't try to be slick," Dawn warned her. "The hospital is completely overrun. We cleared specific areas needed simply for our survival, and it took weeks. So, don't get any ideas about opening any of the doors we passed on the way down ...unless you have a death wish."

Beth nodded her understanding. Had she been alone here, she might have attempted it, but running through a fray of Walkers with Judith and an immobile Tara, didn't seem like a good idea.

"Eric should be right around the corner. You'll help him prepare lunch, then come back upstairs. Edward's office is room two-twenty, past Tara's room on the end. Go there. He'll let you know what your supposed to do."

Beth nodded again, as Dawn turned on her heel, shoving through the double doors, only the sound of her footsteps remained momentarily. Taking a deep breath, Beth headed around the corner, bumping straight into the man she assumed was Eric. He was tall and thin with copper colored hair and greeted her with the first genuine smile she'd received since arriving at Haywood Regional. She liked him instantly.

"You must be Beth," he said in a sing-song, slightly feminine sounding voice, extending his hand to shake hers in a friendly greeting. "I'm Eric. Welcome to Hell's Kitchen," he gestured to the stainless steel fixtures around him.

"Hi," Beth replied, smiling shyly back up at him, noticing that his bottom lip was split and scabbed over. "I'm here to-"

"Help me make lunch," he finished for her. "I'm making some _serious_ spaghetti today."

"Serious spaghetti?" Beth repeated.

"Yes honey," he nodded. " _Seriously_ boring," he winked at her, pointing to a tray of fresh vegetables he intended her to chop, a butter knife laying by the cutting board. "Sorry," he shrugged, when she saw the blunt utensil. "We're not allowed to work with anything sharp."

Moving towards the tray, Beth began chopping the vegetables, doing her best to cut them as neatly as possible. "Is there a garden here?" She asked over her shoulder, noting that they had quite an array of fresh vegetables.

"On the roof," Eric replied, adding noodles to the pot of water he was boiling on the commercial stove top. When he was finished, he scooped up the few vegetables she had managed to chop, and dropped them into the other over-sized pot on the stove where the sauce was simmering. "So where ya from, Beth?"

"Georgia, originally. My group and I were headed north. Washington D.C. You?"

"Virginia. My partner and I were out scouting for our community when we hit a patch of Roamer's and ended up with our car in a ditch. When I came to, he was gone and some police officers were pulling me from the wreck. For a moment, I thought this whole apocalypse mess was all just a dream," he mused, continuing to scoop and add the vegetables as she butchered them with the butter knife. "At first I was grateful ...until I learned that this place is like Hotel California." He paused, shaking his head. "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave."

"Scouting?" She asked, trying not to let his last sentence get to her.

"Yes. For our community. We all have jobs there, and my partner and I are tasked to find more valuable members for our growing community," his voice cracked momentarily, as he placed his hand over his heart and stifled a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about him. He must being going out of his mind without me!"

Beth understood then, the deeper meaning behind the word "partner". "It's okay," she said, validating his feelings. "I miss my loved ones too."

"How did you end up here, honey?"

"I was taken from my group," Beth spat, surprised at the hatred in her voice. "Kidnapped."

"Brutes!" Eric snapped.

The time with Eric passed quickly, with him telling her stories about his life before and after the turn, the volunteer work he'd dedicated a good portion of his life to, leading up to the the community he was 'scouting' for. He told her about the people, the large houses, all with solar power. How they were extending their walls and had plans to start a garden. He especially enjoyed talking about his partner, how they'd been together since before the turn. Beth remained quiet, content to let him talk, unless he asked her a question. He had just begun to tell her about one of the annoying resident who kept bugging him to find her a pasta maker, when their conversation was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps heading towards them.

"Probably one of the wards coming to start collecting the trays," Eric offered, quickly moving to drain the noodles as Beth assisted him, spreading out the trays he set aside onto one of the empty stainless steel counter tops.

Unfortunately, that was not so. It was Forbes and Walsh who rounded the corner, cocky grins plastered on both of their faces as they sauntered around the kitchen. Beth ignored them, focusing on her task, but she could feel their hungry gazes burning through her back, a hunger she sensed that had very little to do with their appetites and food.

"Spaghetti again Tinkerbell?" Forbes began immediately harassing Eric.

"I can only work with what I have," Eric replied sweetly, keeping his eyes downcast like Beth, avoiding their hateful stares. It was very clear that he was used to this type of treatment, a source of amusement for the two bully officers.

"I thought your _type_ were supposed to be good cooks," Walsh joined in.

"Maybe your palate just isn't accustomed to the taste of decent food," Eric tossed back, using tongs to evenly divide the noodles between the trays.

"What's that supposed to mean? Do I need ta beat yer fairy ass again?" Forbes snapped, shoving Eric backwards, he stumbled towards the stove, just barely missing the hot burner.

"That won't be necessary," Eric remained calm, straightening himself. "My apologies if I offended you."

"Sure, no problem," Walsh nodded, patting Eric on the shoulder, then unexpectedly swung his other fist into Eric's gut, doubling him over. "Next time think before ya speak, pretty boy."

"Leave him alone!" Beth yelled, reacting instinctively before thinking things through, she grabbed a ladle off of the countertop, prepared to defend herself and her new friend.

"Well lookey-loo at lil' blondie here," Forbes whistled. "She got a bigger pair than you, Tink."

"She's got nothing to do with this," Eric's voice came in short bursts as he talked, gritting his teeth through the stabbing pain in his stomach as he gripped the counter to help steady himself.

"Aww, the little fairy has a crush," Walsh let out a cruel laugh. "This lil' peach ripe enough to turn ya straight, huh?"

"She sure is ripe," Forbes agreed, his eyes blatantly roaming over Beth's body in a predatory way.

"Please," Eric drew himself up, attempting to avert their attention from Beth. "We have to finish the trays, or Dawn -"

"Who cares 'bout that cow?" Forbes barked, as Walsh stepped forward to block Eric while he advanced on Beth, his hand shooting out to knock the ladle from her hand with swift precision. It clanged to the floor, skidding under the stove, as Forbes backed Beth against the counter, attempting to grind himself against her leg suggestively. "Ya wanna fight, girl? I like when they fight," he hissed.

Beth turned her head, revulsion coursing through her, she refused to look at him, feeling bile rise up the back of her throat from the smell of his sour breath. She pushed at his chest with her hands, but true to his word, that only seemed to excite him more. His grasp settled on her hips, as he lifted her like she was weightless and plopped her down on the counter top, struggling to insinuate himself between her thighs, but Beth's legs were like a vice.

"What the hell you two?" Gorman's voice echoed through the kitchen. "Aren't you supposed to be on watch?"

"Aww, we was jus' havin' some fun. Gettin' a lil' dessert b'fore lunch," Forbes laughed, squeezing Beth's knee before backing away from her.

Beth released the breath she'd been holding in and jumped down from the counter top as Gorman fixed Walsh and Forbes with a scathing look that sent them scrambling for the exit. He bent to retrieve the ladle, handing it to Eric, who immediately returned to prepping the lunch trays without skipping a beat.

"Are you okay?" Gorman asked her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, while pretending like Eric didn't even exist.

Beth nodded. "Thank you."

"You'll have to excuse them. They aren't used to having pretty girls around," he smiled, winking one eye at her.

Beth remained impassive. She knew Gorman was flirting with her, and the whole situation was extremely uncomfortable. She was, of course, grateful that he'd intervened once again, but the 'thank you' she offered would be the extent of her friendliness. Luckily, Gorman seemed unmoved by her aloofness. Grabbing one of the finished trays, he fixed her with another smile and headed back in the direction he came from.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked Eric when she was sure Gorman was gone.

"I'm used it," Eric replied, seemingly resigned to his fate. "Don't get involved next time," he warned her. "Not like I don't appreciate you defending me," he added quickly, his tone softening, "especially since no one ever does. But, they can't hurt me the way they can hurt you."

He didn't have to explain what he meant. If not for Gorman's interruption, Beth had no doubt she would have experienced that hurt firsthand.

As Beth moved closer to start loading the trays onto the rolling cart, she noticed that Eric's hands were shaking. Stopping what she was doing, she grabbed his larger hand in her smaller one and gave it a squeeze. "You're gonna get out of here, Eric. You're gonna find your partner, and your gonna go home ...just like me."

"I wish I had your optimism," Eric smiled down at her, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. "Whatever the outcome, best of luck to you, Beth. I hope our paths cross again." He released her hand then, turning back to spooning his sauce on the noodles. "You should probably head back upstairs. I've got this under control, and you don't want to get on Dawn's bad side."

Nodding, Beth rounded the corner and pushed through the swinging double doors, retracing her steps and headed for Dr. Edward's office, passing several officers and one ward mopping the floor as she continued on her way. She kept her eyes out for Forbes and Walsh, but thankfully, they were nowhere to be seen.

Finding room two-twenty, she knocked softly on the closed door, pushing it open when she heard a muffled "come in" from the other side. The doctor's room was a mess, certainly not what Beth had expected. Stacks of folders and papers littered the desk in the center of the room, even his bed, in the far corner, was covered with his belongings, as if he just tossed things from one place to another whenever it wasn't in use.

"I thought you said Dawn liked things tidy," Beth remarked, taking the seat across from his desk that he offered her.

"She does. We all find our own little ways to pay her back," Edwards replied, waving his arms around dramatically. "This is mine," he finished with a smile.

"I was told to come see you when I was done helping Eric in the cafeteria," Beth was eager to keep moving. The sooner she finished all the chores expected of her, the sooner she could get back to Judith and Tara.

"Sure, we can start my rounds. I've only got three patients to check on today. Guess, my lunch can wait," he smiled, grabbing his lab coat off of his chair and shrugging into it.

Beth stood, following him back out to the hallway, wondering if she should thank him for the pills, but decided against it for the time being. He led her down the corridor, retrieving a ring of keys from his pocket as he stopped in front of what appeared to be a storage closet, and keyed them in. Stepping inside, Beth saw that it was actually a changing room of sorts, with a series of lockers lining the back wall and shelves on either side. One of the shelves was littered with bottles and vials of medicine, the other with what appeared to be surgical tools, and a cordless nail gun that looked very out of place.

"What's that for?" She asked, as Dr. Edwards reached for it.

"C'mon, I'll show you," he answered her, waiting for her to leave the storage room, then closed and locked the door behind him.

He pointed to the adjacent room across the hall, following closely behind Beth as she led the way in. Once inside, he reached for the chart at the foot of the bed, much like he had done the night before when checking her out. Turning to look at the clock behind him on the wall, he scratched something on the chart, and set it down on the bedside table.

"This is patient A. He's been here for three days. We found him trapped under some rubble, severely dehydrated and in a comatose state. I've been pumping him full of fluids since they wheeled him in, and there's been no change in his condition," Dr. Edwards explained, as he disconnected the patient from all the monitors.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Beth asked, instinctively reaching to stop him.

"Our resources are limited. We only give the patients a few days and if their conditions don't improve," he raised the nail gun and placed it against the patients forehead, squeezing the trigger. "It's quiet and effective," he continued to explain himself while Beth looked on, horrified. "As for who we help and who we assist in moving on, that's Dawn's call."

"Why do you all give her so much power?" Beth asked, as Edwards set the nail gun down and pulled the sheet up over the patients head. "We have a leader too, but he doesn't rule us all with an iron fist. Our input is important to him."

Edwards shrugged, "Have you looked outside lately? Where would we all go? She may not be the best or even the most just leader, but believe me when I tell you she _is_ the lesser evil." He picked the chart back up and laid it on top of the body, grabbed the nail gun, and led the way to the next room where an elderly woman laid motionless on her bed, her brown eyes empty, staring at the far wall.

"This is Hilda, or patient B. She's been with us since the beginning. About a week ago, she suffered a stroke. She hasn't spoken a word since, but I think she's still in there somewhere, so I've been making her charts look _good_ \- exaggerating about her condition."

"Aren't you afraid Dawn will find out?"

Laying the nail gun down, Edwards checked the woman's pulse, then wrote on her chart before returning it to the foot of the bed. "Oh, she will soon enough, I'm sure," he answered her.

The doctor had her perplexed. "Why are you telling me this?" Beth asked him, as he handed her the nail gun, and busied himself replacing the saline bag on the old woman's infusion pole.

"Ya gotta know who you can trust here," he shrugged. "Here," he reached into his pocket and handed her his key ring. "Take my keys and go put that back in the meds room," he nodded his head, indicating he was referring to the nail gun in her hands. "Be sure you clean it off, and then wash your hands."

Confused about his motives, Beth did what he asked, going back to the closet and keying in. The hallway was strangely empty and she jumped when the door shut behind her, the noise echoing off the walls of the small room, startling her. She laid the nail gun down on the floor, searching the room for something to clean the tool with, as Edwards had requested.

Finding a stack of towels in one of the lockers, she turned to grab the tool, when the door creaked open. Beth looked up, expecting to see Edwards, but it was Forbes who had let himself in, baring her exit by staying in front of the door.

Beth's heart began pounding so hard in her rib cage, it was painful. "I'll scream," she warned him, dropping the towel and quickly trying to come up with an escape route.

"Ya can," Forbes shrugged. "Wards won't get involved. Yer good ol' buddy Gorman won't be chargin' ta tha rescue, neither. Queen Bitch sent 'em an' a few others down ta tha NICU ta get yer baby a crib." He grabbed the bulge at his crotch and snickered. "So we got plenty time ta get ta know each other better."

Without giving her time to react or counter his advance, Forbes lunged for her quickly, shoving her backwards into the metal lockers behind her, attempting to make her lose her footing. The cold metal slammed into her back and a wave of dizziness washed over her, but Beth fought through it, struggling to remain upright as Forbes tried unsuccessfully to pin her wrists. She evaded his attempts, balling up her fists and slamming them down as hard as she could against his face and neck.

"Damnit bitch," Forbes spat, surprised that Beth was clearly much more tougher than she looked. He shoved his body weight against her, trying to get the upper hand, but Beth wasn't having it, and continued to twist from his grip.

Annoyed, he backed off, taking a few steps backwards and drug the back of his hand across his mouth, pulling it away to find it smeared with his blood, and shocked Beth by beginning to laugh hysterically. "Well damn, ya sure are a lil' hellcat," he panted through his fit of laughter, turning his head sideways to spit out the blood in his mouth. It splattered against the clean white tile floor, an ugly crimson stain.

"I thought you liked when they fight?" Beth mocked him, eyeing him coolly while trying to gauge the distance to the door, and if she could move quickly enough.

"I do," he nodded. "But tha foreplay's over now, sweetheart," he growled, reaching to unfasten his belt buckle.

Taking the only chance she had, Beth heaved herself at the door, crying out in desperation as Forbes' leg shot out and kicked her feet out from under her. Her arms flailing as she tried to break her fall, Beth hit the floor hard, the cool tile below rising up to meet her. Her neck snapped backwards, the base of her skull knocking against the floor, Beth grunted in pain as a new wave of blinding dizziness washed over her and Forbes took full advantage, effectively pinning her wrists above her head with one of his hands.

"Please ...no," she pleaded with him, as she felt his weight settle on top of her body, felt his clammy hand crawl up under her shirt, brushing against the smooth skin of her belly, as he grabbed for the waistband of her pants.

Breathless from his excitement, Forbes jammed his knee up between Beth's thighs, forcing her legs apart, as he continued to struggle with pinning her and getting her pants down over her hips. A tear slid down her cheek, as Beth concentrated on taking her mind somewhere else ...to a happy place ...to Daddy and Maggie, Mamma and Shawn and picnics by the pond on warm summer days. To Judith's toothy grin while she played with her red solo cups. To Daryl constantly berating their ugly little one-eyed mutt that she knew he loved too, despite his protests.

Somewhere in the distance she heard a click, followed by a grunt, and then Forbes was _heavy_ \- heavier than he'd been just a few moments ago. Forcing herself to open her eyes, Beth looked up too see kind, brown eyes staring back at her. Eric, towering over Forbes, the nail gun in his shaking hands.

"A-are you okay?" He stammered, as Beth shoved Forbes' lifeless body off of her.

"I think so," she nodded, yanking her top down to cover the exposed skin of her stomach. With unsteady legs, she drug herself to her feet and adjusted her pants, as Eric dropped the nail gun to the floor.

"T-they'll k-kill me," he stuttered, the look in his eyes a mixture of pain and terror.

Beth paused from rubbing the knot she now had on the back of her head, and picked up the towel she had dropped earlier. Reaching for the nail gun, she bent down over Forbes and squeezed the trigger, wanting to make certain he was dead. His head jerked from the impact, but his body remained lifeless.

"No they won't," she told Eric. "Because they aren't going to find him. At least not for awhile."

She cleaned the tip of the nail gun and laid it on the shelf where it belonged, then began opening up the lockers, satisfied when she found an empty one. "Help me," she instructed Eric, as she yanked Forbes' gun from its holster and stuffed it into the back of her pants. Using the towel to quickly clean up the blood from the floor, she tossed it onto Forbes' before grabbing his arms and dragging his body towards the empty locker. Eric grabbed his feet, and after struggling for some time, they managed to stuff Forbes' body into the locker and force the door closed.

"Now what?" He asked her, leaning against the locker as if he was afraid it would burst open and Forbes would topple out.

"Get to wherever you're supposed to be," Beth said, swiping at the sweat that had collected on her brow.

Nodding, Eric turned to leave, pausing when Beth's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "Thank you," she whispered, unable to convey how truly thankful she was. He nodded again before quietly slipping out the door.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Beth adjusted her scrubs again, making sure Forbes' gun wasn't visible, her eyes scanning the ground to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Knowing she needed an alibi for her time, she searched the bottles on the shelf, finding the ibuprofen and popped open the lid, shaking two pills into her palm, then replaced the bottle and grabbed Edwards keys from the floor.

The hallway was still empty, as she locked the door and headed back down the corridor towards Dr. Edwards office. He was sitting behind his desk, eating a cold plate of Eric's serious spaghetti.

"Did you get lost?" He asked her, as he twirled the noodles around his fork and then stuffed it into his mouth.

"No, I needed to find more of these," Beth pulled the two ibuprofen tablets out of her pocket and laid them down on his desk, figuring the punishment for stealing would be way less harsh than murder. "For my friend. Dawn won't give her anything and she's in a lot of pain," Beth explained, dropping his keys down on the desk beside the pills.

Dr. Edwards set down his fork and reached for his keys. "I took care of your friend before I returned to my office, but keep them," he said, tucking his keys into the pocket of his lab coat. "Who knows when Dawn will have another bout of generosity." His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, as he regarded her with a wink. "Lucky for you, I'm the one who keeps track of the med count."

Beth snatched the pills and dropped them back in her pocket. "Lucky for _you_ , I witnessed Hilda attempt to communicate today," she tossed back nonchalantly, a defiant look in her eyes.

Dr. Edwards sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Clever girl," he smiled. "I think you'll do alright here, Beth."

"That's too bad, because I don't plan on staying very long. Can I go now?" She asked, impatient to peel the disgusting scrubs from her body and wash Forbes filth down the shower drain.

"Yes. Dawn had some of the guys pull a crib from the NICU. I think Joan's in your room with your little girl."

Without saying goodbye, Beth turned and left the doctors office. It took all she had to walk calmly and not sprint back to her own room. The halls were buzzing again, so Beth kept her head down, hoping to stay inconspicuous. She turned the corner and bumped right into Dawn.

" _Jesus_ , watch it Beth," Dawn barked at her, bending to pick up the clipboard she had dropped.

"I'm sorry," Beth muttered stooping to scoop up the pen Dawn had missed.

Dawn eyed her suspiciously. "Are you alright?" She asked, taking in Beth's anxious appearance.

"Yes. I'm just not used to spending so much time away from my daughter," Beth lied, forcing a fake smile. "Just eager to see her."

"Well ...alright," Dawn still looked suspicious. "Make sure you get something to eat. You look a little pale."

Beth nodded, stepping around Dawn and continued to her room. As she stepped through the doorway, she could hear Dawn yelling about someone finding Forbes' lazy ass. Cringing, she shut the door, only then noticing the curly haired ward sitting on the edge of her bed.

"She's napping," Joan said softly, keeping her voice down and motioning to the metal NICU crib in the corner beside Beth's bed. "Officer Shepherd grabbed some formula cans while they were in the maternity ward. I put them on the windowsill."

"Thanks," Beth's reply was curt. The woman seemed nice enough, but it was hard to tell who you could trust in this place.

Joan rose, crossing the distance between them, and reached for the doorknob. "It was no trouble at all. You have a sweet little girl." And with one more glance at Judith sleeping peacefully in the crib, Joan took her leave.

With a sigh of relief, Beth slumped back against the door, thankful to finally be alone. Reaching behind her back to pluck Forbes' gun from the waistband of her pants, Beth scanned the room for a safe place to hide it, coming up with absolutely nothing. Panicking she threw her head back and groaned, staring up at the fluorescent lights above her. It struck her then ...

Climbing up on top of her bed, she threw her arms out for balance and stood, teetering on its edge, and pushed up on the drop ceiling, safely tucking the gun out of sight, then jumped off of the bed. She looked up to check if the panel was even, then patted sleeping Judith on the back with a satisfied smile. Having a weapon made her feel one step closer to freedom.

Grabbing a clean set of scrubs out of one of the drawers, she stalked to the bathroom, undressing as she walked and turned on the water, not bothering to adjust the temperature before climbing underneath the scalding spray. She stood there, letting the water run down and wash over her. She stood there until her skin began to pickle and prune. She stood there until the water beating down on her turned cold. And _still_ , she felt _dirty_.

Turning off the water, she pressed her forehead against the shower wall and did something she hadn't done since the fall of the prison. She prayed.

She prayed for Tara and Judith. For Maggie and Glenn. She prayed for the baby nestled deep within her sisters' womb. She prayed for Rick and Carl, for their loss of Lori, and now their last link to her, with the absence of Judith. She prayed for Michonne and the child she had lost. For Tyrese and for his sisters soul, unsure if they ever even found Sasha. She prayed for Gabriel, Eugene, Abe and Rosita. For Carol to recover and for Noah to rest in peace. For Eric, in the hopes that he'd be reunited with his partner. She prayed for her ugly little one-eyed dog, and for Daryl, the man she loved, that constantly carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Mostly, she prayed for herself - for the strength she needed to get through this, and forgiveness for the sins she _knew_ she would commit to get back to the people she loved.


	36. His strength in her heart, Her pain on his shoulders - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Glenn head out to obtain transportation for the group and run into some trouble. A stranger makes an appearance.

"Great idea, Glenn," Daryl grunted, dropping down from the chain link fence they were perched upon and quickly ducking behind one of the abandoned cars that littered the lot.

Glenn dropped down and joined him. "How was I supposed to know this place would be overrun?" He asked, peeping up over the hood at the herd of Walkers that blocked their path.

"Cuz it's a bus station?" Daryl balked at him. "Widespread panic, people scramblin' ta get out ..."

"Yeah yeah," Glenn waved his hand at him. "It's a charter bus company, though. I figured there would be some, but this is ridiculous."

Ridiculous didn't even begin to describe it. The whole day had been nothing but setback after setback. After Daryl had awoken from what little sleep he had gotten, they had made the collective decision to take the Cavalier on this mission, beings that it was the smallest car and ran the crappiest. On the chance that their journey wasn't a successful one, they would still need the bigger and better running vehicles to make their getaway.

First, the damn car wouldn't start, and after fiddling with the fuel injection for what felt like hours, Daryl had finally got the stupid thing sputtering so they could hurry, and get on the road. Then, halfway down the mountain, it stalled and wouldn't turn over. Figuring they had wasted enough damn time messing with it, they decided to make the rest of the trip to the depot on foot, keeping to the surrounding forest for better coverage and protection. A trip that would have taken twenty minutes with a direct route in a car, had turned into a two hour trek on foot through the woods. The herd, was just the icing on the cake.

It wasn't like they weren't prepared. They had brought flares and other means to distract some Walkers if need be, but not a herd of this magnitude, and they still had to get into the office to search for keys.

Daryl glanced up at the sky, the sun was almost at its highest point, meaning it was already well past noon. Keeping low, he turned and sunk to the ground, his back sliding along the drivers side door of the sedan providing them temporary cover, and pulled his knapsack from his shoulder, readjusting his crossbow on his back.

"Think throwing a flare will distract the bulk of them so we can at least get into the office?" Glenn whispered, continuing to keep his eyes on the herd.

"Think we ain't got much'a choice," Daryl shrugged, digging through his pack and retrieving two of the flares.

The office was about forty yards away, nestled right up against a large hanger that Daryl assumed at one time housed the buses that weren't in use. One of the large glass double doors was propped open, and from his vantage point, he could see a couple of Walkers stumbling around inside, but it was nothing the two of them couldn't handle. It was getting there that would be the hard part.

"C'mon." Nudging Glenn with his elbow, Daryl motioned for him to follow towards the back of the car. The trunk was popped, so Daryl helped himself to the tire iron that was wedged beside the spare, and Glenn grabbed a large pointed umbrella. They weren't the greatest weapons, but they had longer range than their knives and would allow them to swing while they ran.

"Ya ready?" Daryl asked, striking a match against the car bumper and holding it under the fuse of the flare to light it.

"No," Glenn answered honestly, laying his flare fuse against Daryl's.

Rising to their full heights, they chucked the flares as hard as they could past the front end of the car and immediately started sprinting for the glass double doors. As predicted, most of the Walkers stumbled curiously towards the light, while the stragglers came for him and Glenn. Daryl kept his eyes forward, swinging the tire iron at anything within his range, the muscles in his legs protesting from running again, yet he stayed on Glenn's heels, leaping through the one open glass door and bumping right into one of the Walkers. It toppled to the floor in the impact, it's bony arms clawing for Daryl as he bashed in the front of it's skull with one well-aimed blow.

"A little help here," Glenn prompted him, struggling to pull the door closed, as most of the Walkers in the lot advanced towards the office, the flares no longer as appealing as the two warm bodies. The door was caught on some corpses and wouldn't budge.

"Yeh, I ain't busy or nuthin'," Daryl grunted, as he took down two more Walker's simultaneously, kicking one to the ground and stomping its head with his boot, while he shoved the tire iron through the eye socket of another. It splattered to the ground in a pile of rotted flesh and decaying bones as he yanked his weapon free from its head.

The herd outside growing louder as it approached, Daryl rushed to Glenn's side, kicking at the corpses littering the doorway, preventing them from closing it, his biceps and triceps bulging as he pulled it with all his might. It wouldn't budge. Frantically, Glenn grabbed at the bodies, cringing at their state of decay as he tugged them free with his bare hands and finally the door swung shut on them, amputating a Walker's reaching arm as it slammed and Glenn clicked the lock into place.

"Well, that sucked," he panted, breathless from their excursion.

"Yeh," was all Daryl could muster while he fought to catch his breath, thinking maybe now was a good time to quit smoking.

They composed themselves as the herd piled up against the doors, their snarls and growls deafening, in the small enclosure. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that the flimsy glass doors wouldn't hold them for long.

"C'mon," Daryl called to Glenn who seemed transfixed by the Walker pile-up at the door. "Let's find keys and pray that door leads out. We ain't gettin' out tha way we came in, that's fer sure."

Glenn nodded, backing away from the glass doors and walked around the counter, stopping in front of a lock-box that hung on the wall. "They've gotta be in here," he said, turning towards Daryl, as he heaved himself over the counter and dropped his backpack to the floor.

"It locked?" Daryl asked.

"Of course," Glenn retorted. "Why would anything be easy for us today?"

"Watch out," Daryl warned him, raising the tire iron high above his head and slamming it down on the mini pad lock, effectively busting open the lock, but bringing the entire box down off the wall with it. It burst open, scattering keys all over the ground.

Glenn dropped to his knees and began scooping up keys. "Way to go, slick."

"S'open ain't it?" Daryl shot back, joining Glenn on the floor.

"Yeah, but which ones do we take?" He asked, both of his hands filled with keys.

Daryl held one up to get a good look at it. They all were attached to numbered tags. "Dunno," he shrugged. "All of 'em, I guess. No way ta know what buses are even here til we get out there, so grab 'em all."

Glenn dropped the keys into Daryl's open backpack and pulled himself back up on his feet, glancing nervously again, at the glass doors. "I think it's time to move."

Daryl stood, as the sound of splintering glass just barely reached his ears over the roar of the herd. He looked to the entrance, and sure enough, a crack was beginning to form in the bottom corner of one of the doors.

"Yep," he agreed with Glenn. "Time ta move."

Removing his crossbow from his back, he pulled his flashlight out of his back pocket, and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he led the way to the door they both guessed led out into the bus hanger. His hand on the knob, Daryl twisted it to make sure it wasn't locked and then slowly, cautiously, pushed it open. It wasn't the hanger, but a narrow hallway with some vending machines and various work safety posters covering the walls, leading to a doorway at the opposite end. Daryl stepped inside, and Glenn followed, pulling the door shut behind him. Pressing a finger to his lips, Daryl motioned for Glenn to be silent as he moved quietly down the hall and pressed his ear against the door, trying to listen for noise over the growls of the Walkers out front.

"Do you hear anything?" Glenn whispered.

"Can't tell," Daryl replied, pressing his ear harder against the door. "If those dumbasses out front would shut tha hell up."

In frustration, he pulled his ear away and reached for the knob, twisting it slowly to test it, just as he'd done with the other that led them in here. Like the other one, it was also unlocked. Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, he slowly pushed it open, cringing when the hinges protested, creaking loudly, while Glenn leaned forward and shone his flashlight into the black space ahead of them. It was definitely the bus hanger.

Moving as silently as they could manage, they crept into the huge garage-like structure, shinning their flashlights ahead of them to point the way. A large luxury bus, the image of a horse painted on its side, sat just a few feet away from them, it's door hanging open. Daryl grabbed for his backpack again, dropping it to the ground, as Glenn circled the bus, finding a number seven painted on the back.

"It's seven," he said, as he dropped to his knees again, digging through Daryl's bag, pulling out the keys as he shuffled through them for the number seven tag, while Daryl climbed up into the bus.

"I can't find a number seven!" Glenn yelled to him, his voice a combination of frantic frustration and annoyance.

"Son-of-a-bitch," Daryl growled, as he shone his flashlight on the bus's dashboard. "Cuz tha damn things are in tha ignition already!"

A muffled curse, and then Glenn began to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of the situation.

"Hey chuckles," Daryl rolled his eyes. "Wanna get tha hell up here?"

Glenn stood, scooping up Daryl's bag and joined him on the bus. "This is perfect," he said, shunning his flashlight down the spacious isle. "We'll fit everyone and everything on here."

Daryl sat down in the drivers seat, bouncing from the chairs hydraulics and turned the key halfway, releasing his pent up breath when the interior lights kicked on. "Well, tha batteries good," he said, turning the key the rest of the way and breaking into a full blown smile when the diesel engine started purring, as if the damn thing hadn't sat derelict for two years.

"Holy shit! Are you serious?" Glenn cried, slapping his hand on the back of Daryl's seat. He began laughing hysterically again, this time from pure joy, as he jumped up and down like a kid being told they were going to Disney World.

Daryl gave the dash a once over, checking the gauges. The oil pressure was good, the battery voltage was normal, and both the regular and reserve gas tanks were full-it _was_ truly a damn miracle or some form of divine intervention.

Flicking on the buses headlights, Daryl's smile began fading into a frown. "Yeh, we got jus' one problem," he said, and Glenn grew immediately silent. "How tha hell we 'sposed ta get outta here?" Daryl asked, pointing to the closed hanger door blocking their escape route.

Glenn brought his palm to his face and drug it down his jaw. "We can't just drive through it?" He asked, hopeful.

"Not wit no momentum behind us, ya dense?" Daryl asked. "It'll rip tha lid right off, or smash in tha front end. Neither scenario is good."

"And the minute we open that door, the herd will swarm us. If they haven't been drawn to the noise already." Glenn sighed, defeated.

With no electricity and no power, there was no way to avoid it, someone had to manually open the door with the pulleys. And it would have to be a one man job, because someone had to drive the bus out of the hanger before it got swarmed.

Daryl flipped the headlights off and hit the idle switch on the dashboard, then stood, positioning his crossbow comfortably on his back. "I'll go."

"You can't," Glenn argued. "I can't drive the bus."

"Yeh, ya can. It's automatic. Don't get more simpler," Daryl pointed to the shifter. "Keep tha headlights off so we don't attract them all in one shot."

"No," Glenn shook his head. "I have to go," he insisted.

"Be a hero later -"

"It's not about being a hero, Daryl," Glenn interrupted him. "I'm faster. I'll get the door up and get back to the bus before they even notice me." He did his best to sound confident.

It was true. Glenn was fast - quicker than all of them, skilled at slipping in and out of situations quickly without being noticed. _But this was different ..._

"Don't die," Daryl warned him. "I ain't gonna be tha one takin' that news ta Maggie. Not today," Daryl clasped Glenn on the shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Not today," Glenn agreed, returning the gesture, he gripped Daryl's shoulder back, exchanging a nod with him.

Daryl was hesitant to let him go, as he re-positioned himself back in the drivers seat and flipped the idle switch back off. He watched Glenn take a few deep breaths and then run down the bus stairs while he shifted the bus into gear, wincing as the shocks blew out air, making a loud hissing sound. Glenn pulled his knife out, holding it in his hand, as he reached for the chord attached to the door pulley, gave one more nod and then jerked hard, his hands moving up and down the length of the chain as the door began to rise.

A third of the way, then half, Daryl sat poised, waiting to inch the bus forward, waiting for the Walkers to come pouring through the hanger door ... _but none came_. Glenn continued yanking the chain until the door was fully opened, then dodged up the bus stairs, striking just one lone Walker on his way up, as he pulled the lever and shut the doors behind him.

"Tha hell?" Daryl mumbled, peering through the windshield as he focused on pulling the bus completely out of the hanger.

"I know," Glenn panted, short of breath from his pumping adrenaline. "Where the hell did they all go?"

As they cleared the hanger, they had their answer. A fire burning on the opposite side of the fence where they came in had most of the dead's attention, save for a few stragglers wandering about. Flashing headlights straight ahead grabbed his attention, and Daryl romped the gas peddle, the two figures jumping up and down, waving their arms on the other side of the fence came clearly into focus as the bus closed the distance, the red minivan behind them.

"Is that ...?"

"Maggie and Abe," Daryl finished for him, guiding the bus through the opening in the gate they had created.

He had barely brought the bus to a complete stop before Glenn was bursting through the doors and pulling Maggie into his arms. Daryl flipped the idle switch back on before joining them, as Abe shoved the gate closed again.

"I am so mad at you," Glenn said, as he grasped Maggie's face gently in his open palms. "What are you doing here?" He tugged her back into his embrace before giving her a chance to answer.

"Savin' yer asses!" Abe answered for her, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his auburn mustache.

"Sight fer sore eyes," Daryl said, and meant it, knowing how close he had been to possibly having to return to the lodge solo. It was also clear that Rick had effectively gotten through to Abraham, and while he may not like the guy a good chunk of the time - _usually when he was flapping his gums_ \- lately, he'd had a knack for being there just when they needed him.

"How did you know we were in the hanger?" Glenn asked, finally letting Maggie go, but just barely. He kept his arm draped protectively over her shoulders.

"When we got here, we saw all the Walkers beatin' down those glass doors," she pointed to the office doors, now completely shattered. "We knew you weren't gettin' out that way, so where else would you end up?" She shrugged.

"Whatcha torch?" Daryl asked, stepping to the side to look at the fire, still raging across the lot.

"Piece of shit Cavalier," Abe replied. "Found it where ya left it, by the side of the road."

"How'd ya get it started?" Daryl asked, reaching to pull a cigarette from his vest pocket. So much for quitting.

"We didn't," Abraham replied with a chuckle. "Threw the son-of-a-bitch in neutral," He pointed to Glenn, "and your ol' lady pushed me down the mountain." He slapped his hand on his knee in excitement, as if he'd just told the world's best joke.

"And why are you here?" Glenn asked again. "Not that I'm complaining, but dammit Maggie ..."

"Stop," Maggie silenced him, placing a slender finger against his lips. "You were gone too long and I couldn't just sit around and wait any longer. And you," she pointed to Daryl. "My sister would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

Daryl toed the dirt unknowing how to respond, feeling a slight blush creep into his cheeks, thankful when Abe slapped the hood of the minivan to get everyone's attention.

"Well that's so damn sweet, I'm gettin' a cavity, but can we get movin' now? That fire ain't gonna burn forever and my ass is gettin' itchy." He thumbed in the direction of the fence behind them, where Walkers were beginning to cluster, clawing at the chain link and attracting the attention of the others still growling by the fire.

Daryl couldn't agree more, the sun was falling lower in the sky, and dusk was creeping up fast. He was already heading back to the bus when a man stepped out from in front of it, his arms raised above his head in a show of surrender. Daryl reached for his crossbow, cursing under his breath when he realized he'd left it on the bus. He heard the click of the gun as Maggie materialized beside him, her weapon trained on the stranger.

"I'm not looking for trouble," the stranger said, remaining calm. He kept his hands in the air. "I was just passing through and saw the commotion."

"Yer lyin'," Daryl hissed. "If ya was jus' passin' through, why show yerself when yer so obviously outnumbered."

The man smiled, his vivid blue eyes staring through Daryl. "Because you're right. I'm lying," he bobbed his head up and down and took a tentative step forward. "I need a vehicle. I was hoping to sneak away with one of yours while you's were distracted, but you seem like decent people, and you obviously went to a lot of trouble to get this bus, so I decided just to ask you for your help instead."

"What makes you think we're decent?" Abe eyed him suspiciously.

"Or that we'd help you?" Glenn added, stepping closer to his wife.

"Just a hunch," the stranger shrugged. "I figured I'd take a chance considering I'm really quite desperate and frankly, I've got nothing else to lose."

"People with nothin' to lose are usually the most dangerous," Abe commented, speaking from experience.

"Agreed," the stranger said. "But like your friend here mentioned," he nodded his head towards Daryl, "I'm severely outnumbered. So I'm either telling you the truth or I'm extremely stupid, since I assure you, I have no super powers."

"We're listenin'," Maggie urged him to continue, waving her gun at him.

"My partner and I were in an accident and I lost control of our car. He was hurt and unconscious and I couldn't wake him, so I climbed out of the wreck and led the Roamer's away from him," the man spoke slowly, his expression pained. "As I was returning, their were men dressed as police ...they were taking him ..."

Daryl's ears perked up. If the man wasn't telling the truth, he was an expert liar. It was all _so damn coincidental_ , though. "Go on."

"Well, at first I was relieved, because I thought they were there to help," he shook his head, his disappointment evident by his tone. "But when they saw me, they shot at me," he lowered his eyes, his voice dropping an octave, "and I'm ashamed to admit that I ran and hid. I've been searching ever since, trying to find where they took him. It's got to be nearby, because I've seen the police cars out twice since then. I've tried following, but I'm sure you can understand that it's hard to keep up with a speeding car when you're on foot. Hence, my need for a vehicle."

"And what will you do when you find them?" Maggie asked, lowering her gun just a fraction of an inch.

"Whatever I have to," the stranger said calmly; almost coldly.

"Let's say we believe ya. What makes ya think we'd help?" Daryl asked.

The man shrugged his shoulders, mindful to keep his hands in the air. "A simple act of human kindness? I know there's still people left who haven't lost their humanity. I know," he said, a sincere smile touching the corners of his mouth, "because I'm one of them. I have no weapons on me, except a knife in my jacket pocket and a flare gun in my backpack. You can check," he offered, twisting his body sideways momentarily.

_There's still good people, Daryl._

Daryl shook his head, something in his gut told him that he could trust this man. "Alright," he said, ignoring the protests of the others behind him as he quickly moved towards him. The man didn't budge, keeping still and continuing to keep his arms up. He never saw it coming when Daryl reared back his fist and slammed it into his face, knocking him to the ground and out cold.

"Damn," Daryl growled, shaking his bruised fist, bloody again - and cradled it to his chest, snarling like a wounded animal. In his moment of impulse, he'd given no thought to his injured hand.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Glenn asked, a shocked expression still etching his face.

"He says the cops took his partner, right? So we take 'em ta Noah. If his partner was there, he'd know 'em," Daryl explained his reasoning. "Jus' hit 'em ta be on tha safe side."

He bent down, rolling the stranger onto his side so he could access his backpack. Realizing his intentions, Maggie bent down to help, unzipping it and rifling through its contents, she removed a flare gun, holding it up for everyone to see. "He told us the truth," she said, rising back up to her feet, taking the backpack with her, as Daryl slid the knife out of his coat pocket, tucking it into his own pocket for safekeeping.

"So I guess Mr. Rogers is ridin' with us," Abe noted, already heaving the stranger up off the ground and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He stalked up the bus stairs, depositing the man none to gently onto one of the seats, then made himself comfortable behind the wheel. "C'mon," he called to them, impatient to get back to the lodge. "We're burnin' daylight."

Maggie handed Daryl the strangers backpack, then climbed into the minivan with Glenn, as Daryl climbed back into the bus, taking the seat opposite of their unwelcome guest. Abe waited for Glenn to reverse and spin around the minivan, then shifted the bus into gear, following a safe distance behind him as they made their way back up the mountainside.

"What a day," Abe said, glancing at Daryl through the rear view mirror. "This thing rides like a dream, though. And both tanks full? _Somebody musta been prayin' for us!_ "


	37. This Shattered Dream You Cannot Justify, We're Gonna Scream Until We're Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group is anxious to move, as they wait on the mystery stranger to awaken. Meanwhile, things at the hospital go from bad to worst, and Beth makes a deal with Dawn that may just be her undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the summer hiatus my lovelies ...if you've been following my story from the beginning, then you know I can't get ANYTHING done during summer break when my kiddos are home! But, they are winding down now that school is just two weeks away (happy mom dance) and now I've shifted back in gear. Hope you enjoy this installment - Chapter 38 is already in my editors hands and will follow shortly! xoxo - Lis

Beth blinked her eyes, engulfed in darkness, fighting the panic pumping through her veins, she scrambled to get her bearings, gripping the railing of her hospital bed, using it as an anchor to tether her back to reality. _It was just a dream_. Releasing a hefty a breath, she pushed herself up on her elbows to peep at Judith nestled safely in her new bed, peaceful in her slumber, as Beth realized she must have dozed off after her shower and slept straight through to lights out.

Wondering why Dawn the control freak hadn't roused her, and hoping Tara was okay, she eased back down on her side, hugging her pillow against her chest and tried to remember what her nightmare had been about. Terrifying as it was, the memory eluded her, as if her brain had tucked it away, instinctively protecting her from herself.

Clutching her pillow tighter, Beth trembled as an involuntary shiver worked its way down her spine. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and instinctively she knew that she was not alone in her room. Cursing herself for hiding the gun so well it was of no use to her, she peered over her shoulder, straining her eyes against the darkness, as the beds' mattress sank to accommodate the weight of another. A moment later, she felt the pressure of someone's hand resting on her hip. Beth immediately recoiled from the touch, sitting straight up in bed and yanking the covers up to her chin.

"Shhh shh shh," A hushed voice whispered to her. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out his silhouette, taller than almost everyone, even in a sitting position, it was Gorman perched on her bed, invading her privacy as he thought she slept.

"How did you get in here?" She demanded, gripping the blanket so hard her fingers began to numb.

"Shhh," he hushed her again. "Keep your voice down." He pressed himself closer in the bed, his hands reaching out to clasp her shoulders.

"Don't," Beth whimpered, trying to shrug out of his grasp, unsuccessfully.

"I ain't gonna hurt you," Gorman did his best to reassure her. "Don't you think if I was going to hurt you, I would have done it by now?"

Beth considered his words, but refused to let her guard down. True, he hadn't harmed her - quite the opposite since her arrival, but that still didn't change the fact that he had snuck into her room while she was sleeping, or that he had his hands upon her right now. "What do you want?"

"What happened in the kitchen today ...it's gonna keep happening," He said, his features becoming more clear as Beth's eyes became more adjusted to the darkness.

"It won't," Beth snapped, wishing instantly she could take her words back, her mind immediately dredging up the image of Forbes' lifeless body shoved in the locker.

"It will," Gorman insisted. "That's the way things are around here. A pretty lil' thing like you ...It's hard for the men to keep their cool."

Beth cringed, repulsed by his words. These men were so-called officers of the law - sworn to protect, not take advantage of their power or the weakness of the people under their care. "What do you want?" She asked again, sure that she wouldn't like his response.

"I want to help you," he sighed, pausing briefly before he continued. "I can't always be around ... But, if you were under my protection, no one would bother you. Not even Dawn."

"Under your protection?" Beth repeated him.

"Yes," he nodded, slowly sliding one of his hands up her shoulder to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, like he had the right to be so familiar with her.

Beth winced, as if his touch pained her, sinking back further into the mattress, trying to elude his hand. "Please ... Don't," she whispered, her eyes darting to Judith, then back to Gorman.

He immediately withdrew his hands, easing himself back a safe distance. "I told you I won't hurt you, and I won't. I won't touch you either ...not until you ask me to."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Beth narrowed her eyes, certain now that she would _not_ like his answer.

"C'mon sweetheart ...nothing is free. Not here. Not anywhere." Rising from the bed, he straightened his uniform, adjusting the gun hanging at his hip. "You're a smart girl. If you want my protection, I'll be wantin' something from you in return."

_And there it was_ ...the underlying reason for his kindness to her. He was far worse than the others - at least they didn't bother hiding who and what they were. "Get out," Beth hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'll give ya some time to think it over," Gorman replied, unmoved by the venom in her tone. He crossed the room, laying his hand on the knob before turning to address her once more. "Don't take too long, though. My offer expires by this evening." And then he was gone.

Beth drew in a deep breath, grabbed her pillow and fought the urge to scream into it, sinking her teeth into its softness, instead. Knowing she would never be able to fall back to sleep, and feeling more isolated than ever before, Beth rose from the bed and gently tugged Judith from her crib, careful not to wake her. Cuddling the infant closely against her, Beth laid back down in her bed, drawing the covers up around them, cocooning Judith in the crook of her arm and rested her chin on the babies soft fuzzy head. _How much more of this could she possibly take?_

* * *

"Christ Daryl, how hard did you hit him?" Rick asked, coming to check on their unconscious guest for the third time since they arrived.

"Hard 'nuff ta make sure he wouldn't try nuthin' funny," Daryl replied, biting at his fingernails.

"It's nearly dawn," Rick pulled the heavy window drapes back, casting his eyes towards the sky, the darkness was already beginning to dissipate. "We're all packed and ready to go, but we'll have to hold out until tonight."

"Rick -"

"I know that's not what you want," Rick interrupted him, dropping the drapes. "It ain't what I want, either. But it ain't about what we want, it's about doing it _right_. We need the cover of darkness if we're gonna take them by surprise."

"Shoulda just dropped the bastard," Abe grumbled from where he was crouched in the corner, leaning his forehead against the tip of his rifle.

"What if he was tellin' the truth?" Maggie chimed in. "He was honest about his weapons."

"Yeah, and he was honestly tryin' ta steal one of our rides too," Abe reminded her.

"But he didn't," Glenn said, tossing the strangers backpack into the center of the room. "There's nothing but the basics. A flashlight, couple of maps, some energy bars, water and an envelope full of photographs."

"Photographs of what?" Rick asked, kneeling by the pack and retrieving the envelope so he could have a look.

"Houses," Glenn answered with a shrug. "Steel walls and a garage loaded top to bottom with shelves of food."

Rick thumbed through the pictures, then stuffed them back into the envelope and dropped it on the pack. "What's his story anyway?"

"Says he's lookin' fer his partner," Daryl answered. "Says they got in a wreck and our buddies in blue got 'em. Figured if he was tellin' the truth, Noah might know 'em."

Rick nodded. "Sounds reasonable."

Daryl returned the nod and stood, cautiously maneuvering around the group that was scattered around the room, most of them attempting some sleep while they waited for _Mr. Rogers_ , as Abe had dubbed him, to regain consciousness. Daryl eyed the man that they left bound on the floor, feeling anxious to move. He hadn't realized he'd even hit him that hard, but if he didn't come to soon, a bucket of water would be the alternate solution.

Heading back towards the kitchen, he quickly bypassed his room, refusing to even cast a glance at the doorway. It hurt to much ... All the happiness and comfort he had felt there, and now it was ...gone. _Just gone_. Empty.

Eugene was in the kitchen, and it was a damn good thing that they were leaving, as he'd made a hell of a mess. Newspaper was strewn about the floor and counter tops and some strange gel-like liquid was floating in the sink. With neon yellow rubber dish washing gloves up to his elbows and bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep, he looked like a mad scientist, crazy hair and all.

"Tha hell?" Daryl asked, startling Eugene who was focused on the task of whatever the hell he was doing.

"Makin' homemade smoke bombs. Thought they might come in handy," Eugene replied, picking up one of the newspaper sheets and folding it several times before submerging it in the gooey liquid.

"Fifth grade science experiment?" Daryl asked, leaning against the kitchen door frame.

"Third actually," Eugene said, laying the saturated sheet down on the counter. "Hand me that string there?" He asked, nodding his head towards the counter space by Daryl, thanking him as he obliged.

"How ya s'posed ta make wet paper burn or smoke?" Daryl asked, seriously intrigued.

"We don't use it when it's wet," Eugene replied matter-of-factly. "We wait 'till its dry," he continued, picking up one of the dried pieces and folding it once more, he tied the string around the middle to keep it in place, then handed it to Daryl. "Just light the end and it'll be like a bad eighties Cheech and Chong movie," he smiled, attempting an odd, awkward joke that was lost on Daryl.

"Ya sure?" Daryl asked, taking the dried lump of folded newspaper and turning it in his hand, examining it.

"Worked in third grade," he shrugged.

Daryl shook his head, laying the smoke bomb on the counter. "What's that shit?" He jerked his head towards the goo in the sink, curling his lip in distaste.

"Ammonium nitrate," Eugene replied. "Watered down. I took it from the ice packs from the first aid kits, since we won't be using them," he explained, jerking his thumb at the cut open packs by the sink. "Wanna try one out?" He asked, the corners of his mouth tilting up in a mischievous grin.

"Maybe later," Daryl answered, pushing himself away from the door frame, not missing the fleeting disappointment in Eugene's stare. "Ya did good, though," he added, clasping him on the shoulder. "Real good."

Eugene puffed up at the compliment and resumed his task, as Daryl turned and headed back the way he'd come. He craved solitude and the only way to get it was to go to the one place he kept avoiding. That, and he had yet to pack up his and Beth's belongings. With a heavy sigh, he pushed open his bedroom door and dropped his crossbow by the wall, as he'd always done. He turned to close the door when Willy let himself in, jumping up on his spot at the bottom of the bed, he whimpered, looking up expectantly at Daryl. With another heavy sigh, Daryl shut the door and sunk down beside the dog, reaching to scratch the scraggly mutt behind his ear.

"Miss 'er?" He asked. The dog whimpered again, as if replying, then plopped down and closed its eye.

"Yeh, me too," Daryl said softly, then taking a page from the dogs' book, dropped backwards and flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Just a few more hours, he thought to himself. He was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, physically. He began counting the cracks on the ceiling until he felt his eyelids drifting shut.

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Dawn asked. She spoke in clipped tones, not bothering to hide her annoyance as she shuffled Beth into her office. "Come in, shut the door. I've only got a moment."

Suddenly nervous, Beth stammered, "I-Uh ...last night ..."

More rude than usual this morning, Dawn rolled her eyes. "Jesus Beth, out with it already. I'm busy. Just say it," she demanded.

Beth took a deep breath. "Gorman came into my room last night," she blurted out, but Dawn seemed unmoved.

"And?" Dawn asked, quirking a brow. "He touched you? Hurt you?"

Beth worried her hands, feeling uncomfortable under Dawn's scrutinizing gaze. "No. Not exactly ..."

"Then what?" Dawn asked, impatiently folding her arms over her chest.

_That isn't enough?_ Beth thought to herself in disbelief. "He propositioned me."

Dawn laughed. A dry, bitter, cackling sound that grated on the last reserves of Beth's patience. "He propositioned you? That's what you came to cry to me about?" Shaking her head, Dawn walked around her desk and reached for her clipboard, jotting down something as she continued to laugh at Beth's expense.

"You're not going to help me, are you?" Beth asked, not sure why she was even shocked over Dawn's behavior.

"What would you like me to do?" Dawn snorted, dropping the clipboard back down on her desk. "Spank him? Put him in time out? Even if Gorman gave a rats ass about what I had to say, I don't upset the balance here. The wards keep my officers happy, the happier my officers are, the harder they work to keep this place going. The only difference here is that Gorman gave you a choice instead of just taking what he wanted. Use _that_ to your advantage."

"What?" Beth could not believe what she was hearing.

"Don't be so obtuse," Dawn rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't be the first woman in history who spread her legs to cement herself in a better position." She shrugged, "Use what you got."

Beth remained silent as her brain tried to process the horrible things Dawn was telling her. She wasn't actually suggesting that she should allow Gorman to _rape_ her? Wrap a bow around it and try to make it pretty, but that's _exactly_ what it would be, choice or not.

"If that's all, I'd appreciate it if you got back to helping Edwards with his rounds," Dawn huffed, herding Beth towards the door. "As I said, I'm very busy and _now_ I'm ten minutes behind schedule."

Biting back the icy retort clinging to the tip of her tongue, Beth clenched and unclenched her fists as she turned and left Dawn's office, slamming the door behind her. It was clear that the only person Dawn was interested in helping, was herself. Squaring her shoulders, Beth marched down the hallway towards Dr. Edwards office, not making eye contact with anyone. She would not cry ... _she wouldn't_. She'd be damned if she gave any of them the satisfaction.

Edwards was extra chipper this morning, attempting to make small talk several times, but Beth remained tight-lipped and impassive, refusing to do anything more than what was expected of her. She followed him dutifully from room to room, changing the saline bags on the infusion poles and handing him whatever tools he required.

"You wanna tell me what's on your mind?" He finally asked her outright when they were on their last patient.

"It doesn't matter," Beth shot back, unable to mask the loathing in her voice. "You either won't help or you can't help."

"Well that depends," he replied, tucking the clipboard back in its slot at the foot of the elderly woman's bed, the woman still staring blankly at the wall as she had done the day before. "Have you talked to Dawn about it?"

"Like I said," Beth repeated herself, "you either won't help or you can't help" Reaching up to drape the saline bag on the infusion pole, Beth tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and excused herself, wanting to get her work done so she could have her free time with Tara and Judith.

As she had earlier, Beth kept to herself, not making any eye contact as she mopped the hallway and then dusted Dawn's office, thankful that Dawn wasn't there while she completed the task. The morning passed quickly, with Beth's heart sinking further into despair with every tick of the clock and no answer in sight.

Finishing up Dawns office, Beth flicked off the light switch and let herself out, keeping out of the way as Joan skirted past her pushing a cart filled with lunch trays for the wards. The thick scent of hot food, stew maybe, teased her nostrils, causing her stomach to growl, reminding her that she had unintentionally skipped yet another meal. Perhaps it was best, she thought to herself, not wanting to be indebted to Dawn any further and doing her damnedest to ignore the rumbling protests of her empty stomach as she headed in the opposite direction.

Halfway down the hall, she changed her mind and backtracked towards the stairwell leading to the kitchen, the prospect of seeing Eric only sweetening the deal of easing her hunger pains. She picked up the pace as she passed the medicine closet, her thoughts immediately dredging up the lifeless form of Forbes and his dead eyes staring blankly up at her in an accusatory way as she shoved him in the locker. Thankfully, Edwards hadn't needed anything from there today, but she was running out of time ...

"Hey," Eric greeted her less cheerful than yesterday and she knew he was thinking about Forbes too. Dipping his ladle into the large pot simmering on the stove, he sloshed some of his stew in a styrofoam bowl and handed it to her.

Beth nodded her thanks, not bothering with a spoon and brought the bowl immediately to her lips, her hunger overriding the fact that the broth was scalding. It burned a fiery path down her throat but she didn't care, draining the bowl almost halfway before breaking only for necessity, to draw some air into her lungs.

"You must be hungry because this is awful," Eric stared distastefully into the pot in front of him, giving the thick broth a stir with his ladle. "Chicken noodle with no chicken."

"Honestly, I can't remember the last time I ate," Beth replied, dragging her arm across her mouth to wipe it clean. "How are you?" She asked before bringing the bowl back to her lips and draining its contents.

"I've had better days," Eric answered with a shrug, attempting nonchalance as he continued to stir the soup in an effort to keep his nervous hands busy. "How about you?"

"Much better, now that my belly has something in it," Beth lied. Her stomach was already doing somersaults and threatening to force her lunch back up. She could see the unease in his stance and couldn't bear to worry him more.

"More?" Eric asked, lifting the ladle.

Beth shook her head, tossing the bowl into the garbage. "No thanks, I'm good. I better get back upstairs ..."

"Oh wait!" Turning to grab a prepped lunch tray from the counter top behind him, he turned back to her. "Joan asked me to get it ready for Edwards, said he told her he'd be down for it, but he never came. Do you mind?"

"Sure," Beth replied, taking the tray. "See you later."

"Yep. See you," Eric said, returning his attention back to stirring his soup.

Balancing the tray in her arms, Beth climbed the stairwell, steadying herself as she pulled open the double doors and headed towards Edward's office. As soon as the doors swung shut, she could hear a commotion just ahead. Picking up the pace, Beth rounded the corner just in time to see one of the Officers she was unfamiliar with holding one of the wards by the collar of his scrubs. An older man, about her Daddy's age, cowering in fear.

The hallway that was empty before was now buzzing with life, curious wards peeking out of their rooms to see what was going on, other Officers standing by gawking, but no one did _anything_. Throwing caution to the wind, her protective instincts kicking in, Beth neither knew nor cared what the disagreement was about, the little voice inside of her head told her not to intervene, but she ignored it. _This was wrong._

"Stop it," Beth cried, struggling to balance the tray, she reached out to grab the Officers arm just as he raised it, prepared to strike.

"Stay in your own lane bitch," He snapped, swatting her off like a fly, she stumbled backwards, landing on her behind, the tray clattering to the ground sloshing soup all over her.

Beth looked up from where she had landed, covered in chicken-less chicken soup, her eyes roaming over all the onlookers who still stood by doing nothing, and then something _snapped_ inside of her. In a burst of furry, Beth let out a feral scream, scooped up the empty tray and sprung to her feet, rearing back and slamming it against the Officer's shoulder blades with all the force she could muster. He staggered forward, releasing the old man, then turned to face her as the hallway turned deathly silent.

"Stupid cow," he growled, taking a menacing step forward.

Beth squared her chin and refused to back down, keeping a death grip on the lunch tray still held tightly in her shaking hands. Her legs felt like lead, she was certain she couldn't move even if she wanted to. Faintly, she heard the sound of a walkie-talkie over the pounding of her own heart, as Gorman advanced on the scene and stepped between them.

"That's enough Berks," he warned, "Dawn's on her way."

The Officer didn't budge, just continued to stare hatefully at her as Dawn rounded the corner and without even asking what was going on, raised her arm and backhanded Beth in the face.

The unexpected blow catching her off guard, Beth dropped the tray as Dawn grasped her roughly by the upper arm and shoved her towards her office, barking over her shoulder that 'the show was over', and for everyone to get back to work and clean up the mess in the hallway. Still reeling from shock, Beth allowed herself to be led, her feet clumsy beneath her as Dawn opened her office and shoved her inside, slamming the door behind them. Once the door was shut, her entire demeanor changed from anger to something bordering on concern.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" She asked, keeping her voice low.

"You might have asked before you hit me," Beth hissed, cradling her injured cheek.

"I had to do that," Dawn replied matter-of-factly, as if that was a logical explanation. "You disrespected Berks, and in front of the wards. He'd be expecting retribution. It was best for you that it came from me, rather than him."

"I disrespected him?" Beth fired back in exasperation. "He was going to pummel an old man!"

"Percy is his ward. You had no right to interfere," Dawn answered calmly, like her explanation was perfectly reasonable. "I thought I was pretty clear this morning. We have a system here Beth, and it requires a delicate balance. The wards keep my officers happy-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Beth cut her off, nodding her head vigorously. "The happier they are, the harder they work to keep this place going."

"Exactly," Dawn nodded.

"So maybe I don't have the right to interfere, but you do," Beth folded her arms over her chest, a flash of defiance shimmering in her blue eyes. "That man was elderly and fragile and he could have been hurt."

"I don't interfere," Dawn answered with a tone that made it clear she did not need to explain her reasons. "We all make sacrifices, and that's why our system works." Leaning an elbow against her filing cabinet, she ran a finger over a photo frame, making a distasteful face at the dust on the tip of her finger. "You need to brush up on your dusting skills," she criticized Beth, rubbing her fingers together.

_Dust?_ The wards under her care were being mistreated and abused right under Dawn's nose, and the woman wanted to talk about dust? Beth took a deep breath, fighting to control her emotions, but it was brimming _again_ , the quiet rage that she felt brewing deep down in her core. _Dust!_

"And what sacrifices do you make, Dawn? Sitting safe behind these walls ordering everyone else around? You send your officers out into to danger, allow the wards to be bullied and raped ...but it's okay as long as everything is nice and tidy, right?" Like a volcano, the words erupted from Beth's mouth, tinged with the hatred she felt for the people here who were supposed to be protecting those under their care. "It's disgraceful that some of you even still wear your uniforms! You have no right. You don't protect and serve. You used to put your life on the line to help others, and now you just stand by and watch, letting the other officers abuse their power. Aren't you supposed to be a _leader_?"

"You have no idea of the sacrifices I've made to keep things together here," Dawn spat back, instantly recovering from Beth's verbal assault. Stepping away from the filing cabinet, she took an authoritative stance. "Who the hell are you to judge me? What I'm doing ...it's for the greater good. I wouldn't expect someone like _you_ to understand that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Beth asked, picking up on the accusation in Dawn's tone.

"The weak," she spoke slowly, deliberately. "The ones who look for someone to save their asses while dragging everyone down with them. The stupid ones who get pregnant at the end of the world," she nodded her head towards Beth for emphasis, "who take their own lives when shit gets just a little bit too hard."

"That's bullshit," Beth shot back. "I _am_ strong," she declared, raising her chin proudly, defiantly.

"It's bullshit, huh? What about this?" Dawn asked, grabbing Beth's arm and twisting it to expose the jagged scar on her wrist from her failed suicide attempt. "Huh? Is this bullshit too?"

"I'm not that person anymore," Beth remained defiant, jerking her wrist free from Dawn's grasp. She wasn't. She'd shed that scared little girl way before the prison had fell. _She was strong_.

Dawn chuckled, taking a step back, she regarded Beth with amusement. "Are you like me now, then? Willing to make the hard choices?"

"I'll never be like you," Beth ground out through clenched teeth. "You're not making hard choices, you're hiding from your responsibility like a coward, because it's easier to just turn the other way. That doesn't make you strong at all."

Like a switch had been flipped, Dawn's mood changed, her eyes turning black with anger as she grabbed the picture frame off of the filing cabinet and swung it at Beth's face with a force that snapped her head back, the sharp corner biting through the tender flesh of her cheek, and drawing blood. Maybe she should have been expecting it, voicing her thoughts with no filter and letting her mouth run wild, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Beth's fingers flew instinctively to the stinging open wound on her face, but she didn't flinch, and she did not cry. "Hit me as much as you want, but that doesn't make it untrue."

"You think you're better than me?" Dawn asked, her breathing labored in her sudden burst of anger. She clutched the frame but did not raise her hand again.

"I'm not a bad a person," Beth replied calmly, removing her bloodied fingers and wiping them on her scrubs.

"I'm a bad person?" Dawn repeated her, having the audacity to crack a smile, as her mood changed yet again. "Well you're a cop killer. You took a life, Beth. So you're not a good person either."

Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped down the frame, seemingly now delighted at Beth's shocked expression. "What? You didn't think I knew about that? Edwards and I found his body and disposed of it so the others wouldn't find out. We did that to protect you," she finished, replacing the frame back to its perch atop the filing cabinet.

"I protected myself," Beth insisted, feeling the blood trickle down her cheek, but she ignored it. "And I'll do it again if I have to."

"I'm counting on it," Dawn chuckled again, handing Beth her handkerchief that she reluctantly accepted. "You see, Forbes is no great loss. He was a hell of a shot, but that's about it. I won't spill any tears over him, that's for sure. But the other officers, they might not take so kindly to a ward putting down one of their fellow boys in blue."

"Are you threatening me?" Beth asked, pausing from gently blotting her cheek with the hanky.

Moving away from Beth, Dawn made her way to her desk, taking a seat in the rolling chair. "You _could_ take it that way. Or you could take it as opportunity to ensure things go your way," she finished, smiling as she folded her hands in front of her.

"I'm listening," Beth moved closer to the desk, wary of the woman, but intrigued nonetheless.

"Gorman is becoming too big a problem for me, lately. I could never control him to begin with, and if the others sense I'm weakening, it'll be mutiny." Dawn eased back in her chair and with a nonchalant flick of her wrist, indicated for Beth to come closer and take the seat opposite of her. She paused, waiting for Beth to sit before continuing. "You're gonna take Gorman up on his offer. You're gonna take care of him for me. In return, I'm going to put your friend and your daughter in a car, return your weapons and you're going to drive away from here and never look back."

Beth remained quiet for a moment, considering Dawn's offer. She didn't trust the woman as far as she could throw her. "Why me?" Beth asked, skeptical.

"You really have to ask?" Dawn leaned forward, lowering her voice and looking Beth straight in the eyes. "You've barely been here for two days and already you've killed one of my officers, assaulted another and are causing chaos in my halls."

"Eric comes too," Beth blurted out, the words tumbling quickly from her mouth. She wouldn't leave her new friend behind.

Dawn shook her head no, "That's not part of the deal."

Beth leveled her gaze. "Really? What's stopping me from leaving this room and going straight to Gorman with what you just asked me to do?"

"What makes you think he'd believe you?" Dawn countered.

"He will," Beth said, feigning confidence she didn't truly feel. "If I run sobbing into his arms and bat my eyelashes at him, he'll be getting exactly what he wants from me. _Use what you've got_ , right?" Beth said with calculated coldness, throwing Dawn's earlier words back in her face. "Lets renegotiate. Eric comes too."

Dawn was silent for a moment, her fingers tapping on the desk as she contemplated Beth's words. After a few minutes, she drew in a deep breath, a smile slowly spreading across her features. "Well played Beth. See," she jerked her head coyly to the side, "we're not so different after all."

Beth remained quiet, her poker face not wavering.

"Fine," Dawn shrugged casually, as if it mattered little to her, gambling someone else's life. "Eric goes too. But this happens tonight."

Beth nodded, doing her best to keep her emotions subdued as Dawn continued her instructions.

"Make your preparations. I'll have your belongings brought up to you. No weapons until you leave, but ..." She pulled the keys from her pocket and unlocked her desk drawer. Removing a sharp surgical scalpel, she slid it across the desk and into Beth's waiting hands, then stood abruptly, slamming the drawer shut.

Quickly tucking the scalpel into her pants, Beth stood as well, as Dawn sauntered to the door and swung it open so hard it banged against the adjoining wall.

"Now get out of my sight!" She screamed, loud enough for everyone to hear her.

Beth needed no such invitation. Clutching the handkerchief to her face, she bolted back towards her room, keeping her eyes lowered and speaking to no one. Throwing the door to her room open, she entered with lightening speed and closed it just as quickly, falling back on it before she finally allowed herself to breathe.

"It appears I saved your ass yet again," Gorman called from behind her.

Biting back her anger at the invasion of her privacy once again, Beth played nice. "I know," she agreed, keeping her voice soft as she slowly turned around to face him, spread out and lounging lazily in her bed as if he had every right to be there.

"What happened?" He asked, heaving himself off of the bed and rushing to her side.

"It's nothing," Beth replied, keeping her eyes lowered. He wasted no time rushing here to play the hero when he knew damn well he had sent her into the lions den.

"That bitch," Gorman spat, clutching Beth's chin in his hand, he turned her face so he could have a better look at her wound. "If you take me up on my offer, I _swear_ she'll never touch you again," he insisted, caressing the side of her jaw with his thumb. "You just have to say the words, Beth. Tell me you want my protection."

He leaned closer, smelling of whisky and cheap cologne and Beth fought the urge to knee him in the jewels and run. She had to sell this. _She had to!_ A lone tear slid from her eye and down her uninjured cheek as he moved closer still, pressing her body against the hard door at her back. His lips were so close she could almost feel them against her own as he urged her again to say what he wanted to hear. "Tell me it's what you want."

Beth nodded vigorously, unable to say the words, afraid that she might vomit if she even dared to open her mouth, as Gorman's serious expression twisted into a satisfied smile.

"Good girl," he crooned, running a long finger down the length of her pert nose, as a knock on the door interrupted him, turning his smile into a scowl when Dr. Edwards' voice announced he was there to treat her wound.

Reaching behind her, Gorman twisted the knob as he whispered in her ear, "Come to me tonight after lights out."


	38. The Enemy Of My Enemy Is My Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group prepares for the rescue mission, and Daryl is charged with keeping a watchful eye on the new guy. Can he be trusted? Is he being truthful about his intentions in North Carolina? All they knew was he was a long way from home, and trusting strangers had proven to be a costly mistake, time and time again ....

Stuffing the last of his meager belongings into his duffle bag, Daryl cast a quick glance around the room to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He had packed a separate bag for Beth's things, including several bottles of the strawberry shampoo she liked. His eyes fell on the writing desk in the corner, where Beth had spent many nights curled up penning her thoughts into the diary he had given her as gift the night they arrived here.

Her diary had been one of the first things he had packed, knowing how much it had meant to her, that along with the cursed yellow polo she had taken from the country club. Blood stained and tattered, she hadn't worn it once since they had been reunited, but she _had_ kept it, so Daryl was certain it meant _something_ to her.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Daryl reached for Beth's knife at his hip, and let his memory carry him back to that day, to the hunt for Beth's first drink. He'd been so damn _angry_ with her stupid quest, storming the countryside looking for hooch after they had just lost everyone and everything ... Daryl hadn't understood until much later that their journey wasn't about booze at all, but a grieving young woman who wanted to do and feel _something_ normal, refusing to just survive, she wanted to _live again_ ... if only just for a little while. And their adventure had turned out to be a pivotal turning point in his life, a cathartic bonding experience for both of them ... closing open wounds - his old, hers new.

A knock at the door brought him back to the present, as Glenn poked his head in the doorway and announced that _Mr. Rogers_ had finally awoken. With a nod of his head and renewed enthusiasm, Daryl stood, slung both bags over his shoulder and grabbed up his crossbow, whistling for the stupid dog to follow as he left the room and closed the door on yet another chapter of his life. Only this time he swore, it would not end with another loss.

Following Glenn back into the lounge, Daryl dropped the duffle bags by the door, propping his crossbow against them and joined the group that had already begun to gather around the man. It was Daryl he sought out, locking eyes with him.

"Better to be safe than sorry, huh friend?"

"We ain't your friends," Rick interjected, kneeling down in front of the man, establishing immediately that he was the one who would be asking the questions.

"That's only because we have yet to establish a rapport," the man offered, with a lopsided grin, then sucked in a sharp breath when the act of smiling pained his bruised face. "I'm Aaron. I'd shake your hand, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment."

Rick was not amused. "You think this is a game?"

"No sir, I do not," the man answered quickly. "Admittedly, I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation."

"Who the hell are you?" Rick barked, opening the mans backpack up and dumping its contents onto the ground, then snatching up the manila envelope and pulling out the images.

"I told you, my name is Aaron -"

"What is this?" Rick cut him off, waving the pictures at him.

"That's my home," Aaron answered calmly, but offering little explanation beyond that.

"So what are you doing _here_?" Rick spoke slowly, deliberately, drawing out each syllable.

"I already explained that to your friends," Aaron nodded in Daryl's direction. "I'm just trying to get my partner, so we can get back home."

"Where's home?"

Aaron paused, swallowing nervously as he carefully weighed his next words. "I'm sorry, I'm just not at liberty to discuss that with you ... _Yet_."

"Horse shit!" Abe's voice boomed from somewhere in the back.

"Quiet!" Rick called over his shoulder before turning his attention back to Aaron. "Yet? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Aaron swallowed again, "I don't mean to change the subject, but my throat's really dry. Do you think I could have some water? I - I won't impose on you, there's some in my pack ..."

Rick remained silent as he stared at their captive, then with a glance at the group, he ran an impatient hand through his hair and reached for the knife holstered at his hip. "You make one sudden move, do anything stupid and I swear I will slit your throat from ear to ear ..." He grumbled, grabbing for Aaron's bound wrists.

"You have my word," Aaron nodded his understanding.

"That don't mean much to me," Rick answered, slicing his bonds and handing him the bottle of water Maggie extended.

Aaron removed the cap and chugged greedily, emptying its contents in nearly one gulp. He paused for a moment, panting his thanks before draining the rest of the bottle.

"We came from Virginia," he said then, tilting the empty bottle towards Rick in a gesture of a salute. "A kindness for a kindness."

"Yer a long way from home," Daryl mumbled.

"Not really. I'm a scout ...a recruiter of sorts. It's my job. In my home community we all have jobs ..." He paused again, cupping his injured cheek in the palm of his hand. "My partner and I look for others like us, good people, to bring back to our community."

"Where in Virginia?" Maggie asked, leaning forward, her eyes sparking with interest.

Aaron pursed his lips and sighed. "That information I cannot share with just anyone." Then followed up quickly with, "I'm sure you can understand."

Glenn stepped forward, "Why should we trust you?"

Aaron tilted his head back, running his eyes over the entire group gathered around him. "Because the enemy of my enemy is my _friend_."

"What I understand," Rick growled, growing impatient with the tit for tat, "is that you're a stranger here. The stranger that tried to steal one of our vehicles. The stranger who happened to show up coincidentally talking about cops and police cars when we were just ambushed by a group fitting that description ... That's what I understand, _friend_."

"I admit it seems sketchy. The whole police thing is truly coincidental though, I swear. And yes, I _was_ going to steal one of your vehicles, but I _didn't_." He reminded them, his warm blue eyes pleading with them to believe him. "Instead, I revealed myself, banking on faith that you _were_ good people ... and hoping that we could help each other."

Rick shifted the conversation unexpectedly, hoping to provoke an honest answer. "How many Walker's have you killed?"

Aaron looked perplexed. "Seriously? I - I don't know. I haven't exactly kept count. More than few."

"How many people have you killed?" Rick asked the next question, watching Aaron's reaction intently.

"Two," He answered, his voice thick with remorse. "But only because I had to. My own survival counted on it," he offered willingly, eliminating the need for Rick to ask him "Why".

Rick stood abruptly, swiping the back of his hand against his worried brow, then drug his hand down the length of his beard stubble. "Get 'em up. Let's get 'em to Noah."

Daryl stepped forward then, reaching down to clasp Aaron firmly by the upper arm and helped hoist him to his feet, while Glenn flanked him on the other side, also grabbing his arm. Together they moved through the crowd, coming to stop by the couch Noah was propped up on. Still sweaty and weak, Noah looked up at them expectantly.

"This is Noah," Glenn introduced him. "He was temporarily with the group that took our people _and_ your partner. Tell him your friends name."

"His name is Eric," Aaron said, his voice hopeful. "He's tall, fair freckled complexion and he has strawberry blonde hair."

Noah furrowed his brow, digging his elbows into the couch to push himself up more into a sitting position. "I'm sorry," he grunted, giving up and sinking back down into the soft cushions. "That doesn't sound familiar."

Aaron looked crushed, slumping defeated against Daryl as Rick moved towards them with a new length of rope, intending to rebind his arms.

"That doesn't mean he isn't there," Noah continued, halting Rick in his tracks. "But I'd been out and on my own for weeks before Beth and Daryl found me. It's possible that they found him while they were out searching for me."

"And it's possible he's a mole," Abe spat with a snort, folding his arms over his massive chest.

"Shhh Abraham," Rosita chastised him, tugging on one of his bulging biceps.

"And what sense does that make?" Aaron turned and asked him. "Really? What purpose do I serve? I don't even know where this police station is -"

"It's a hospital," Noah corrected him.

Aaron's head swung back towards Noah, "There, you see? All this time I was off on foot, I thought I was looking for a police station." He turned his pleading eyes back to Rick, poised just an arms length away with the rope. "Help me, please?," He begged desperately. "I'll do whatever you ask. Whatever you need. Don't trust me? Fine, I understand. Keep me bound then. Don't give me back my weapon, whatever makes you more comfortable, but I need to find Eric and get him home."

The room fell silent, as all eyes fell on Rick, waiting for his response, but it was Maggie who spoke up, pushing her way through the crowd to Aaron, his photographs clutched in her hand. "If we help you, you take us back to your community." It was not a question.

Aaron opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, processing Maggie's terms. "This isn't how we recruit... I -"

"You bring back good people, right? You said that," Maggie interrupted him. "Last night when you revealed yourself, you said you thought we were decent people."

Aaron nodded, "Yes, but -"

"Well, we _are_ good people," Maggie interrupted him again. "We'll help you get your partner back, but when you head back to Virginia, we go with you."

"Maggie," Glenn interjected, reaching to place his free hand that was not grasping Aaron, on her arm, "we don't even know these people -"

"No!" Shaking her head and Glenn's hand off of her arm simultaneously, Maggie held Aaron with her deep penetrating gaze, her blue eyes already welling up with unshed tears. "I'm pregnant," she blurted out, ignoring the gasps from those of the group who didn't already know. "My sister and friend were taken, along with his little girl," she thrust her finger in Rick's direction. "She's only a baby!"

Aaron opened his mouth again to speak, but Maggie wasn't finished. "You see that?" She asked, pointing to Carol's broken arm in the makeshift sling, "And that, and that, and that?" She rambled on, pointing to Noah, Tryeese, Father Gabriel and Sasha's battered form. "The people who have your partner did this ...unprovoked. And now we have nowhere else to go!"

Aaron drew in a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly, his eyes roaming around the room, taking in the wounded, the worried and the brokenhearted, then with another deep sigh, he nodded. "Alright," he nodded again. "We'll help each other. You help me get back Eric, and I'll take you back to our community."

Relief flooding through her features, Maggie stumbled forward into Glenn's arms, making him release Aaron to catch her. The stress and heartbreak of the ordeal finally proving to be too much for her, she sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, uncaring of who saw her.

"Take her to lie down," Carol instructed Glenn. "She's exhausted."

Glenn nodded, his grip on Maggie tightening as he steered her away from the group and to the far side of the common room, where it was quieter and less crowded. Aaron, who hadn't shrugged out of Daryl's grasp, even when Glenn had released him, watched them walk away with wide eyes, a pained expression on his face.

"So what is the plan?" Aaron asked, when he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the heartbreaking scene.

"That's on a need to know basis," Rick said, stuffing the length of rope into his back pocket. "If and when I feel you need to know, I'll tell you."

"But I thought -"

"I know what you thought," Rick cut him off, keeping his voice low so Maggie wouldn't hear him. "The fact remains, I still don't know you. _We_ still don't know you. So we'll see what happens after we get our people back."

"Fair enough," Aaron agreed. "I hope I don't regret this."

"That makes two of us," Rick tossed back, then spoke directly to Daryl, "keep your eyes on him."

Daryl nodded, as Rick turned, raising his voice so the crowd could hear him. "Everyone finish packing and get your stuff on the bus. We'll be on the road by nightfall."

"C'mon," Daryl said, tugging on Aaron's arm, and leading him towards where he had dropped the duffle bags. He slung his crossbow onto his back, then tossed his own bag to Aaron. "Make yer'self useful."

With quick reflexes, Aaron caught the bag, shouldering it. "I take it I'm not getting my knife back?"

"Prob'ly not," Daryl answered honestly, as he hoisted Beth's bag into his own arms, handling it carefully, as if it were precious cargo.

Making sure that Aaron followed him, Daryl stalked towards the front entrance, still hanging off its hinges, and made his way to the bus parked in front of the lodge. The doors to the cargo hold along the bottom were all hanging open, half stuffed with food and supplies, as whatever actual personal belongings they had, wasn't much. No one made it a practice to get attached to monetary things anymore.

Stopping by the bus, Daryl gently placed Beth's bag in the hold, then turned to take his from Aaron, tucking it snugly beside hers, before reaching for some crates of food stacked in the yard, and loading them too. Aaron caught on quickly, assisting Daryl at the task.

Clopping down the porch steps, Abe appeared before them, thrusting Aaron's pack at him to load with the others. "I've got my eye on you, preppy," he growled before turning and climbing up into the bus.

"Is he always so hostile?" Aaron asked, depositing his pack into the hold, on top of Daryl's bag.

"Naw," Daryl shook his head, wiping the sweat from his brow before reaching for another crate. "He's actually pretty mild ta'day."

The sun had just begun to dip into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, as they finished loading up the bus. Winded, Daryl leaned against it, digging his cigarettes from his breast pocket and lighting one, he took a few drags, then extended his pack, offering one to Aaron.

"No thanks," Aaron declined with a wave of his hand. "Those things will kill ya, you know?"

Shrugging, Daryl flipped the lid closed and dropped the pack back into his pocket. "Smokin's tha least'a my worries," he replied, taking a long drag for emphasis.

"How long have you and your group been together?" Aaron asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

Daryl pursed his lips, his hand floating down to caress the hilt of Beth's knife. He was not one for idle chit chat, but he humored the man. "Most of us since tha start. We picked up a few on tha way ...lost some ..." Daryl let his sentence drop. There was no need to explain, Aaron understood what he meant, acknowledging such with a nod.

"Are you's from around here?"

"Georgia." Daryl took another long drag, inhaling slowly and blowing the smoke out through his nose. "An' ya'll?"

"Washington DC."

Daryl snorted at the irony. Taking two more quick puffs from his cigarette, he flicked it into the grass nearby and pushed himself away from the bus. "C'mon," he gestured for Aaron to follow him around to the side of the lodge where his motorcycle lay in a heap where he'd left it.

Grasping one of the handlebars, Daryl grunted, his muscles bunching as he hoisted the heavy bike back up on two wheels, releasing the kickstand. Stepping back, he circled the bike, checking it for damage. It wasn't too bad. The fender was bent and one of the taillights had shattered, but aside from a few scuffs, it was alright.

"Is this yours?" Aaron asked with avid interest.

Bending down to better inspect the taillight, Daryl shook his head yes, peering up at Aaron over the seat of the bike. "Ya ride?"

"No. I always wanted to, but no." Running his fingers along the shiny painted gas tank, he turned curious eyes on Daryl. "Won't this draw unnecessary attention to us?"

"Ain't gon' ride it," Daryl answered, raising himself back up into a standing position, and pointing to the flatbed of the black pick-up truck. "Ain't gon' leave it behind, neither."

"Good idea," Aaron smiled, following behind Daryl again, as he strolled to the pickup truck, lowered the tailgate, and grabbed a long wooden plank from the back.

Positioning it against the tailgate, he steadied it, then clamped onto the handlebars of the bike, wheeling it forward towards the truck. Figuring out his intentions, Aaron climbed into the truck bed, and as Daryl gathered momentum with a running start, pushing it up the plank, Aaron grabbed the handle bars and heaved it up the rest of the way.

Daryl muttered his thanks, climbing into the bed and handing Aaron some rope so they could secure the motorcycle to the truck, shaking it afterwards to make sure it was stable. Satisfied with a job well done, they both hopped down.

"If you two clowns are done," Michonne startled them, stealthy as usual, "come get something to eat before we head out."

Daryl slammed the tailgate shut and reached into his pocket, producing a set of keys, he tossed them to Michonne. She reached out and caught them effortlessly, a smile twisting her lips.

"Glad you finally came to your senses about my Jeep," she teased him, closing her fingers tightly around the keys, as she led the way back into the lodge.

" _My_ Jeep," Daryl corrected her. "Better not scratch it."

Rick and Daryl had decided earlier, erring on the side of caution, that it was best they take the other vehicles with them too. If they were unable to find diesel fuel, or something happened to the bus, they couldn't afford to be stranded when so many of them were banged up and in no shape to be on foot. It was also a strategic move, as they planned to leave the bus a safe distance away from the hospital at a rendezvous point, in case shit got bad and they needed to get out of there fast, they'd hightail it and meet up later, back at the bus.

Taking a seat by the fireplace, Daryl forced himself to eat out of necessity, knowing he needed to, if only to keep himself going. Digging unceremoniously into the bowl of generic spaghetti-o's, he knew they tasted like rubber rolled in dirt, except he didn't actually taste them. The others did the same, everyone eating in complete silence, awash in the grim tension that clung to them all. Having his fill, Daryl stood, dropping his empty bowl into the fireplace and lit a cigarette, doing his best to be patient while the others finished their meal. It was dark outside now, and the prospect of finally reuniting with Beth was fueling his anxiety. _She'd better be okay_. Every damn inch of her, every damn strand of her hair. Tara and Judith too. If not ... _No_ , he could not think that way. _Would not_. Not when they were so close.

Pulling Beth's knife from his holster, Daryl sat back down by the fireplace, and twirled its ivory handle around in his hands, feeling connected to her just by holding it. He drew from that comfort, reveled in it, allowing it to give him strength.

"It belonged to someone special to you, didn't it?" Aaron observed, putting his own finished bowl down.

Daryl shrugged, remaining silent.

"I don't mean to pry," Aaron followed up quickly. "I just notice you touch it a lot. I do the same thing ...see?" He extended his arm, showing Daryl the hemp bracelet on his wrist. "It belongs to someone I love, and it calms me when I feel like I'm losing focus."

Daryl cleared his throat and quickly tucked Beth's knife away, a little unnerved that a practical stranger had been able to read him so clearly, when he was usually so damn good at hiding his feelings from most people. "Person this belongs ta, is gettin' it back ta'night," he declared, taking a final drag from his smoke before tossing it into the fireplace with his empty bowl.

"I'm looking forward to meeting that person," Aaron replied.

Daryl was silent again. The man sounded genuine. Truthfully, he seemed and acted pretty damn genuine all day, even bound and surrounded by what might have been a hostile group of strangers. Daryl wondered if maybe the person he was so eager to get to was the owner of that bracelet? The time for wondering about anything was over _finally_ , when Rick stood to address the group, spreading the map out on the service desk, as the others huddled around him.

"We'll take this route here," he explained, tracing his finger along the road on the map. "I'll lead a ways ahead in the pick-up truck with Eugene and his homemade smoke bombs. Abe, you'll follow behind me in the bus with the injured ... Sasha, Noah, Gabriel and Carol -"

"Rick, I'm fine," Carol interjected.

"And you're an excellent shot, but not with one arm. I need you to hang back and look after the injured. You're the only one left with medical experience and that's where I need you."

She nodded her understanding and Rick continued. "Maggie and Rosita, I want you's on that bus too. You'll hang back and keep watch with Abe," He paused turning to Maggie, before she had the chance to plead her case, "Don't argue with me. We aren't coming back without Beth, _you have my word_ , but I need you on that bus with my son."

"But I'm going with you," Carl insisted. "Judith is my sister and Beth and Tara are family -"

"Carl," Michonne interrupted him. "You're going to listen to your father," she said, in a stern and loving motherly tone, leaving no room for argument.

When his son didn't protest any further, Rick continued. "Glenn and Ty, you'll take the mini-van and follow behind the bus, and Daryl and Michonne will pull up the rear in the Jeep. We'll leave the bus-"

"I'm really sorry to interrupt," Aaron spoke up nervously, raising his hand as if he were asking permission to speak.

Annoyed, Rick sucked in a ragged breath, dragging his hand down his beard and leveled Aaron with his piercing eyes. "Yes?"

"I'm just wondering where I will be?"

"You'll be staying on the bus where Abe can keep an eye on you."

Abe nodded his head, as if to reaffirm this.

"But ... I - I thought I'd be going with you? I'd like to go with you."

Rick shook his head no. "If you want our help, we do it _my_ way. I want to get in and out quickly and -"

"That's fine," Aaron raised his palm in a sign of surrender, halting Rick's explanation. "I agreed to your terms and I'll abide by them."

Rick seemed unsure how to react to Aaron's reasonable response. After just a moments hesitation, he continued. "We'll leave the bus and pickup truck here," he tapped his finger on the map, indicating the spot, "six blocks from Haywood Regional. I think that's a safe enough distance away, incase anything goes wrong."

Picking up one of the two Walkie-Talkie's sitting on the service desk, he handed one to Daryl. "I'll keep the other one so we can stay in contact on the way down, as needed," he explained. "Once we get to the rendezvous point, give that to Abe so both of our parties can stay in touch when we separate."

Daryl nodded, remaining silent so Rick could finish laying out the game plan.

"Daryl, Michonne, Glenn, Ty, and I will take the van and the jeep and head to the hospital from there."

"And me," Eugene chimed in.

"And Eugene," Rick sighed.

Daryl couldn't help the small smile that teased the corners of his mouth. It was his idea to allow Eugene to come in the first place, and Rick had _not_ been an easy sell. But he _had_ made the smoke bombs after all, and the fact remained that they needed someone to stay behind with the vehicles while they snuck inside. If shit went bad, Eugene now knew the way back to the bus and would at least be safe within the van.

With the plan in place, Rick folded up the map and grabbed the remaining Walkie-Talkie, shoving it in the back pocket of his jeans, indicating the meeting was officially over. With that, the group quickly dispersed, some heading to their assigned vehicles, while the others helped carefully load the injured onto the bus, Daryl being one of them.

As Daryl exited the bus, he whistled for the dumb dog, halting Abe from closing the door. Another high pitched whistle had the ugly mutt leaping off the porch and bounding up the bus stairs, taking the empty seat beside Carl and greeting him with sloppy one-eyed dog kisses. Now, they were ready to go.

"Hate that dumb dog," Daryl grumbled, ignoring the knowing smile plastered on Michonne's face as he tossed his crossbow in the back of the jeep.

"Mmmhmm," she nodded, side-eyeing him hard, as she deposited her katana beside his crossbow and climbed into the drivers seat.

"You ready back there?" Rick's voice blared over the Walkie-Talkie.

"Yeh," Daryl answered back, jumping into the jeep as Michonne pushed in the clutch and turned the key.

As the caravan made its descent down the mountain, Daryl didn't look back. Like the prison before it, this place was now just a distant memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt as if this chapter was rushed. Not purposely obviously, although I won't lie and tell you that I'm not DYING to see our beloved couple back together again (maybe even more so than all of you) ...but I go where this story takes me. This chapter was really just filler, to build on a developing relationship between Aaron and Daryl - of whom I really enjoyed their dynamic together on the show in the back half of season 4. I'm typically drawn to the moral compasses (which never pans out well for me, considering TWD's track record), and Aaron is definitely one of my guilty pleasures. As for next week's chapter ...I suggest you all meditate and drink some herbal tea ...whatever you need to do to become zen ... Xoxo Lis


	39. Crashing, Hit A Wall, Right Now I Need A Miracle ...Hurry Up Now, I Need A Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following through with her end of the bargain, Beth goes to a dark place. Rick said they get to come back ....but could she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading early this week ...very early. One of my stepsons leaves for the United States Army on Sunday, and since my day will likely be full of chaos and crying, I wanted to be ahead of the game. I'm not going to lie ...this was a very hard chapter to write, and although it is a bit shorter in length, it is definitely still very powerful (at least, my editor and I thought so). I don't want to spoil, so ... Xoxo Lis

 

_"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace._

_In this world you will have trouble. But take heart!_

_I have overcome the world." John 16.33_

 

True to her word, Dawn had Beth's belongings brought up to her. Her boots and dress and the pillowcase she'd stuffed Judith's things in, all freshly laundered, spread out on the bed before her like a consolation prize. Beth ran her hand along the soft fabric of the dress, her fingertips brushing against the ruffled hem, remembering how she'd felt that morning when she'd opened the closet and found it hanging in there. How touched she had been that Daryl had gone out of his way to get the dress she had been admiring that day at Noah's safe house. How touched she had been all the countless other times he had gone out of his way for her benefit. Even before their relationship had shifted.

_God, she missed him so much_. Missed the gentle, subtle touches he stole when he thought no one was looking, the way he sometimes awkwardly stumbled over his words. The way he pulled at the hair on his chin when he was thinking, or chewed his thumb when he was nervous. The way his hair constantly fell over his eyes ...

Beth picked up the pillowcase and brought it to her nose, hoping that it still faintly smelled of him ...of the outdoors and hard work, of leather and cigarette smoke. She inhaled deeply, pressing it against her face, continuing to hope, but she smelled nothing. Nothing but cold, sterile hospital.

Reaching to swipe at the errant tear that had slipped down her cheek, Beth shook her head and grabbed her boots, stuffing them inside of the pillowcase. She couldn't dwell on such things now. She needed to stay focused. Needed to stay strong. After carefully folding her dress, she tucked that safely away too, then sat down on the edge of the bed, mentally preparing herself for the task at hand. _If such a thing was possible._

This wasn't like it had been with Forbes. Gorman hadn't actually attacked her ... He had given her a choice. But so had Dawn ... _She had to do this_. She had to get Tara and Judith out of here ...get back to their family. Back to Maggie, who needed her and back to Daryl.

Her eyes fell on the empty spot beside her bed, now void of Judith's crib, grateful she had a moment to hold the baby before Dawn had removed her. An excuse to Joan that Beth was being punished for her earlier actions made for a plausible explanation and ensured Judith would remain safely out of harms way until it was time to leave.

Standing abruptly, Beth stalked to the bathroom and flicked on the light switch, stepping before the mirror and studied her gaunt reflection. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. With shaky fingers, she traced the stitches on her forehead, and then the fresh ones on her cheek, wincing, as her skin was still tender. Her wounds would heal, but like her soul, she would be scarred, destined to forever carry a constant reminder of the hell she'd been subjected to here ...but she _would_ get out.

"I _am_ strong," she spoke to her reflection, reaffirming her thoughts out loud.

Beth sucked in a deep breath and left the bathroom, her eyes floating up to the ceiling, then to the door before climbing up on the bed. Balancing herself on the edge, she pushed the drop ceiling aside so she could retrieve Forbes' gun that she had stashed there. It felt heavy in her hands as she leapt back to the floor.

For a moment, she considered taking It with her, then thought better of it, removing one of her boots from the pillowcase, and stuffing it inside for safekeeping. She'd make due with the scalpel that Dawn had given her, now tucked cleverly into the back of her sports bra. It had taken awhile to position it just right so it didn't cut her when she moved, and pulling it out quickly and stealthily had taken some practice. She couldn't afford any mistakes, Gorman was twice her size and double her strength. _I am strong_ , she reminded herself again, resuming her seat at the bottom of the bed. All that was left to do now was wait.

Beth closed her eyes and concentrated on the ticking of the clock, finding it had a calming effect on her. She counted the seconds hand as it made its journey around the circle ... One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi ... _Breathe_.

She opened her eyes. It was two minutes to nine. Squeezing them shut again, she drew in a deep breath and remembered one of her favorite passages from Daddy's bible ... _"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."_

_... Just breathe._

When her eyes opened again, she was engulfed in darkness. This was it, there was no turning back now. Beth allowed herself a moment to adjust her eyes to the blackness, then rose from the bed on shaky legs, and made her way to the door.

Quietly, she crept into the hallway, the bright red exit lights on either side of the corridor bathed the hall in an eerie glow, as Beth concentrated on not letting her tennis shoes squeak on the tile floor below her. She turned the corner, the door to Gorman's room hung open, a soft glow emanating from within, beaconing her. She stumbled forward, forcing her legs to move, fighting the urge to turn and bolt back to the false security of her hospital room, as she closed the short distance and stopped in his doorway.

Propped up on one elbow, he lay shirtless in the bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine. Beth remained silent, not yet ready to announce her presence, she let her eyes roam over his room. Sparsely furnished, aside from his bed he had very little in the way of furniture, just a coat rack that his police uniform hung on and a desk in the far corner littered with stacks of magazines and the camping lantern that was lighting the room. It was not what she had been expecting, to say the least. In her mind, she had pictured all the officers living quite comfortably, but the luxuries they had acquired clearly, were quite few.

"Don't be shy, darlin'" Gorman called softly. "Come in, make yourself comfortable," he winked at her, patting the spot on the bed beside him suggestively.

Her heart hammering in her chest, Beth stepped into the room, pulling the door closed behind her, as Gorman flipped the magazine shut and tossed it to the floor. Hesitantly, she took a seat on the edge of the bed, her eyes searching for something to focus on and falling to the cover of the magazine he'd discarded just moments ago. Pornographic images of a woman with her legs spread wide, an inviting look in her eyes, stared back up at Beth, as if mocking her for what she was here to do.

She looked away, stifling a sob as Gorman leaned forward and tugged at her ponytail, sending her hair spilling down her back in waves of golden hues. Faster and faster her heart beat against her breast, until Beth thought it would burst through her rib cage.

"Mmm," he sighed, breathing in the scent of the strands of hair he held in his hand. "You smell good ..." He leaned in closer, brushing her hair to the side, "good enough to eat," he continued, pressing his lips against the exposed skin at the back of her shoulder.

Beth sobbed out loud this time, unable to stop her body from cringing as the hair on her arms and neck stood at attention.

Gorman froze. "Hey now," he hissed, sounding annoyed at her actions.

_Dammit_ , Beth chastised herself. _Keep it together!_ "I - I- I'm sorry," She stammered. "I - I just don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Gorman laughed then, shocking Beth just when she thought nothing else at this point could. Scooting over, he eased himself back down onto his elbow. "This only has to be as awkward as we make it, baby." He tugged her down on the bed beside him, "why don't you just try and relax and let me make you feel good."

Beth nodded, wordlessly obliging, terrified to open her mouth, so unsure of what would come out.

"That's it," he crooned, brushing his knuckles against her cheek in a fake gesture of tenderness, his brow furrowing as he studied the wounds on her face. "Damn shame about them mucking up your pretty face darlin'," he sighed, grasping her wrist, "but don't you worry none, you still do it for me," he muttered, as he leaned in for a kiss, pushing her hand towards the evident bulge in the front of his pants.

"Wait!" Beth panicked, jerking her wrist free and bracing her hand against his chest. "W-wait," she stuttered, her mind desperately searching for an excuse as he towered over her with a scowl. "Can you turn off the light?" She asked just as sweetly as she could muster, praying her voice wasn't cracking as she spoke.

His scowl evolving into a smile, Gorman snorted as he rolled off of the bed. " _Jesus_. You shy, sweet thing?" He grumbled as he padded barefoot across the room.

As soon as his back was turned, Beth shot straight up into a sitting position, hooking her arm behind her back with practiced precision. Gripping the scalpel and tugging it free from her sports bra, she turned slightly and stuffed it under the pillow behind her. Then, bending at the knee, she lifted her foot up towards her and pulled off one of her shoes, letting it intentionally slap loudly to the tile floor to get Gorman's attention, wanting him to see _why_ she was sitting up. He fell for it, turning to look at her as she pulled her other shoe off and dropped it beside the other one.

Staring up at him innocently, Beth laid back down on the bed, as he extinguished the lantern and darkness overtook the room. Without her sight, Beth's other senses heightened and Gorman's footsteps were louder and more defined, his cheap cologne more nauseating.

She felt the bottom of the bed sag with his weight, felt his knees nudging her feet apart as he slowly crawled his way up her body, and Beth was helpless to fight the tears that slipped down her cheeks in a torrent, pooling behind her ears and soaking her hair line. Sheer terror flooding her senses, she bit down on her bottom lip, battling to calm her erratic breathing as he insinuated his body between her legs. Even through their layers of clothing, she could feel how excited he was, could feel him pulsing against her thighs and it terrified and disgusted her at the same time, leaving her stomach churning as bile fought its way up her throat.

His breath was hot and reeked of sour whisky as it fanned her cheek, and quickly Beth turned her head, moving her mouth out of reach. She might have to suffer the indignity of having his hands on her body but she would be _damned_ if she let him kiss her. He didn't seem to mind the slight, plastering his lips to her throat instead, soaking her neck in his saliva as he kissed a sloppy path down the v-neckline of her scrubs.

His hands began to roam then, as Gorman pushed them beneath her, cupping her bottom and digging his fingers into the fabric of her pants, pulling her closer to him as he ground his hips against hers, pressing her deeper into the mattress, until Beth wished it would just open up and swallow her whole. The dam had broke and more tears fell then, hot and salty, soaking the pillow under her head, the pillow that the scalpel lay beneath.

Slowly, as to not attract attention, Beth drug her hand up the mattress, as Gorman suddenly bored of her backside, moved to paw at her breasts, cruelly squeezing them as his tongue lapped at the hollow of her throat. A millimeter at a time, she Inched her hand closer to the pillow as his mouth moved upwards to her ear, nipping at the tender flesh of her lobe.

"So tell me darin'?" Gorman whispered, crudely shoving his tongue in her ear, as his hand shot up suddenly and closed around her throat, choking off her air supply. "How stupid do you think I am?"

Unable to even take a moment for her brain to register the shocking turn of events, Beth's hands instinctively flew to his, fighting to pry at his fingers. She sputtered and gagged, her body bucking beneath him as she desperately fought to breath.

"Where is it, huh?" Gorman demanded, loosening his grip just enough for her to suck in one deep ragged breath. "Where's the scalpel, Beth?" He asked again, running his free hand up under her shirt and then down the side of her outer thigh, patting her down as if he were looking for something.

The realization hit her then ... as cliche as a ton of bricks. _Dawn had double crossed her_.

"I don't have it," Beth croaked, letting her hands fall, she resisted struggling as Gorman slightly eased his grip on her throat.

"You're lying," he hissed, tightening his hand again, uncaring as Beth thrashed her head from side to side, tears bursting forth from her eyes. "Where is it then? Huh?" He growled, loosening his grip once more so she could respond, toying with her, enjoying the power he wielded.

"My room," Beth croaked in a hoarse whisper, her throat muscles straining with the effort it took to talk. "Under my mattress," she lied. "I couldn't do it ...couldn't do what she asked ..."

"That bitch!" Gorman spat, releasing Beth's throat and pulling himself up on his knees. "I'll kill her!"

Beth coughed, fighting panic, she turned on her side, dragging some much needed air into her deflated lungs. Dawn had double crossed her, and now she had _nothing left to lose_. Without another moments hesitation, she pushed her hand under the pillow, her searching fingers finally connecting with and wrapping around the scalpel.

Squinting her eyes against the darkness, Beth could just barely make out his silhouette hovering above her through the dimly moonlit room. The adrenaline already pumping through her veins at full force, and before she lost her nerve, Beth took one more deep breath and shot up into a sitting position, catching Gorman completely off guard and thrust the scalpel into the side of his neck. Once, twice, she jabbed it upwards into his jugular, flinching as she felt his skin tear, the scalpel slicing through his flesh like butter, and his blood, hot and sticky, splattering against her face and into her mouth.

Fighting for his life, Gorman fought back, striking out blindly into the darkness, his fist connecting with Beth's shoulder, as she dropped back down on the bed. Masking her cry of pain in a growl, she stabbed him again, wherever she could, his arms, his hands, again and again as he tried to deflect her blows, grunting every time the scalpel made contact with his flesh. The blood from his wounds was all over her, causing the scalpel to slip in Beth's grasp, and twice she cut herself as she continued to stab at him, desperately clinging to the instrument as if it was her lifeline. And in fact, it was.

Finally successful at seizing her wrist, Gorman threw his body down upon her, trying to use his weight to pin her in place as he struggled to wrestle the scalpel from her grip. Beth clawed at his face with her free hand, refusing to let go of her weapon and trying to wriggle upwards, as she felt Gorman's teeth sinking into the soft flesh above her breast. Unable to stop herself from crying out in pain this time, she slammed her fist down against the top of his head repeatedly until he was forced to release the bite, tucking his head down against her chest to protect his face from her assault.

Twisting under the crushing weight of his body, Beth worked one of her legs up between them and sunk her kneecap into his groin, finally jerking her wrist free as he recoiled in pain. His head pillowed on her breasts as he moaned in pain, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, lifting his head up off of her and jerked the scalpel across his throat, with a maddening cry of triumph.

His blood spurt forth from the gushing wound, warm and reeking of copper, it poured down over her, soaking her clothing as he emitted an animalistic gurgling sound. Still pinned beneath him and unable to move, Beth cringed, horrified as she was forced to listen to him dying, thankful for the darkness so at least she didn't have to watch. The bed shook violently as his body spasmed, clinging to the last reserves of life, and then finally, he collapsed in a heap on top of her. And all was still.

With a pained inhuman moan, Beth shoved Gorman's lifeless body off of her and dropped to the floor, crawling away from the bed, her bloodied hands leaving crimson hand prints on the cold sterile tiles beneath her. She needed to get away from him, put some distance between her and his corpse. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, Beth realized she still held the scalpel in her trembling grasp, and with another inhuman moan, she flung it away from her, sending it clattering somewhere under the bed.

_Damn Dawn and Gorman! And damn her too!_ Damn her for not feeling an ounce of remorse for what she had done, leaving Beth to question who and what she was becoming ... _what they had pushed her to_.

Forcing herself to her feet, Beth reached to steady herself on Gorman's desk, her fingers fumbling in the darkness through stacks of magazines for his gun and coming up empty. It would be so much easier if she could turn on the light, but she didn't have the guts to look on her handy work, nor did she want to attract any attention.

On shaky legs, she stumbled across the room, her bare feet slipping on the bloodied floor as she connected with her destination, bumping into the coat hanger and nearly knocking it over. Muttering a very unladylike curse under her breath, Beth steadied it, wasting no time digging into the pockets of Gorman's jacket and once again, coming up empty. _Where in the hell was it?_

Frustrated, Beth tore the coat down from the rack, tossing it in a heap to the floor and reached for Gorman's shirt, her fingers connecting with the hard leather of his holster, and releasing the snap with a _pop_ , she freed the gun, reveling in the comfort of cold steel in her hand. The safety was on. Letting her memory guide her, Beth cleared the gun, pointing it away from her, she tapped the release and caught the magazine in her other hand, needing to be sure it was loaded.

She only needed _one_ bullet.

Satisfied, she seated the round with her index finger, then slammed the magazine back into place, sliding the release and sending a bullet into the chamber. Checking the safety once again as a precaution, she tucked the gun into the back of her pants and reached for the door handle.

Beth moved silently down the hall, her mind blank, running on autopilot, she let her feet carry her to her final destination, until she stood before Dawn's office. A soft light pooled from under the door, illuminating Beth's bloodied bare feet, and for a moment she wondered if Dawn would be surprised to see her. Reaching for the knob, she turned it, expecting it to be locked, but it swung open, creaking as Beth let herself into the room.

Shockingly, Dawn was not surprised to see her. Seated in her rolling chair, she regarded Beth with cool eyes, dragging them up and down the length of her body, taking in what Beth could only guess was her horrid appearance, before cracking a sardonic half smile.

"It appears I _was_ wrong about you," she tossed the off-handed compliment at Beth, as if expecting her to be grateful that she suddenly deemed her worthy of it.

"You double crossed me," Beth flung the accusation at her, her voice monotone, void of emotions, "you used me."

"Wrong." Dawn denied the charge, slowly shaking her head no. "I simply covered all of my bases incase you were unsuccessful."

Beth shook her head, refusing to believe Dawn's justification for her actions. "Did you ever really intend to let us go, or was that just another of your carefully constructed lies?" She asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Unintimidated, Dawn leaned forward, placing her palms flat on her desk. "I fully intend to keep my word, Beth."

_Lies!_ She wanted to scream, but before Beth could form a response, an explosion boomed from somewhere outside, effectively silencing them both, as they dodged to the windows in unison, but could see nothing from their vantage point. Cursing under her breath, Dawn dove to her desk, snatching up her walkie-talkie.

"Shepherd, Lacari, come in," She spoke authoritatively into the Walkie, but was rewarded with only silence. "Dammit, somebody answer me! What's going on out there?" She demanded, her voice hitching just a bit.

Beth watched with silent satisfaction, as Dawn's usual calm and calculated demeanor cracked just a fraction. The walkie hissed, emitting white noise, then crackled again.

"This is Shephard," a woman's voice finally answered back after what seemed like an eternity. "We have a situation ..."

"What's the situation?" Dawn shot back, impatiently, her fingers tightening around the base of the walkie-talkie.

"Officer Lerner," a familiar southern drawl answered on the other end. "This is Rick Grimes. You have some of my people. Now I have some of yours."

Beth blanched, afraid she was hearing things, or worst, dreaming! She braced the filing cabinet beside her, fearful her legs would buckle, relief coursing through every fiber of her being, as she watched the color drain from Dawn's face.

Pursing her lips, Dawn drew in a deep breath, and calmly laid the walkie-talkie back down on her desk, her eyes shooting invisible daggers at Beth. "Well, it appears you _are_ leaving tonight, after all," she said slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Let's go greet your friends."


	40. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the rescue mission underway - will everyone make it out alive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coda
> 
> co·da
> 
> noun
> 
> 1\. Music. a more or less independent passage, at the end of a composition, introduced to bring it to a satisfactory close.
> 
> 2\. Ballet. the concluding section of a ballet, especially the final part of a pas de deux.
> 
> 3\. a concluding section or part, especially one of a conventional form and serving as a summation of preceding themes, motifs, etc., as in a work of literature or drama.

His crossbow pointed straight ahead of him, Daryl took the stairs two at a time, knowing if he stopped moving for even a second, he would crumble. For someone so used to stuffing down his emotions, he felt mentally overwhelmed ...fear, elation, frustration, uncertainty ...they were all crashing around inside of him, threatening to turn him inside out. Getting inside the hospital had been easier than he'd imagined, and frankly, that worried him. He knew it worried Rick, too.

After securing the bus at the rendezvous point, and a heartfelt goodbye between Glenn and Maggie, they had piled into the van and jeep, just as planned. Erring on the side of caution, they ended up parking the vehicles about a fifteen minute walk away from Haywood Regional, and leaving Eugene to watch over them, making the remaining journey on foot, armed with his smoke bombs. After a thorough check of the grounds, and only encountering a handful of Walkers, they cased the only working entrance to the hospital, as directed by Noah. As luck would have it, or maybe it wasn't luck at all, the leader Dawn didn't seem as savvy as Noah had described, leaving only two officers on post this particular night. _Big mistake_. Fatal even. Of course, she had no idea _who_ she was messing with.

Taking cover in the parking lot behind a row of abandoned cars, they quietly advanced on the police cruisers in the row ahead. The split decision to torch a rag in one of the gas tanks was Glenn's brilliant idea, taking a page from Abe's book. He remained behind to light it, as the others crept silently closer, then joined them. They all knew the small explosion would attract the dead, but they'd faced worst odds, so they'd chance it.

It didn't take long before the fire burned its way up the rag, igniting the fumes and creating the desired diversion. The small explosion lit up the parking lot momentarily, as the group ducked down low to avoid flying glass and car parts. As soon as the officers moved down the landing to investigate, they walked right into Eugene's homemade smokescreen and right into an ambush.

The male officer had been defiant, and remained so, his pride wounded that they had gotten the drop on him so easily. The female officer, on the other hand, had been cooperative, more interested in preserving the lives of all involved, she was instructed to speak to Dawn over the walkie-talkie. With their presence now announced, they bound them with some twine as a precaution, and that brought them to the present, climbing the stairwell that would carry them back to their people. And for Daryl, _back to Beth_.

With Rick in the lead, Daryl in the rear, and the others sandwiched in between, they cautiously pushed forward, spreading out of line formation once they crested the stairwell and came upon a set of heavy double doors. Rick moved ahead again, peering through the narrow glass windows on the door.

"Can you see them?" Michonne asked impatiently, pressing herself against Rick's shoulder, trying to get a look.

"Not our people," he answered, turning an accusing eye on Shepherd and Lacari. "They better be alive-"

"Your people are alive," Shepherd interrupted him. "Tara, Beth, Beth's baby ... I held her earlier today."

"Beth's baby?" Daryl knew she meant Judith, but was taken aback momentarily.

Shepherds head flew around to face him. "Yeah. The little girl. You the father?" She asked him point blank, again catching him off guard.

"No," Rick interjected. "I am. That Dawn?" He asked, shifting the topic back on track and pulling Shepherd to the window.

"Yes," she nodded, standing on tip toes so she could see clearly through the glass. "Ask her to have them lower their weapons," Shepherd suggested, tilting her head at the door. "Please ... " She added when Rick didn't respond. "Their are good people in there and no one has to die tonight."

"Shepherd -," the bald aggressive cop tugged at his bonds, growling his displeasure at her with a shake of his head.

"Quiet Lacari!" She shot back at him. "They just want their people back."

Peering down the corridor again, Rick ignored them and brought the walkie-talkie to his lips. "We're coming in. Have your officers lower their weapons," he instructed Dawn, his eyes flicking to Shepherd quickly, before continuing to watch Dawn through the windowpane.

"You have your people do the same," she countered over the radio.

Turning to face them, Rick gave the nod, holstering his own weapon, as everyone begrudgingly did the same, no one moving until the officers behind Dawn had also put away their guns. Daryl flipped his crossbow to his back, absentmindedly reaching to stroke the hilt of Beth's knife for reassurance, as Rick pushed through the double doors and led the way into the hallway.

Daryl hated hospitals. Hated the conflicting smells of antiseptic and infection. Hated the stark white of the walls and tile floors and the harsh fluorescent lights that shone down from above. He anxiously peered over the heads in front of him, his eyes nervously scanning the crowd for Beth and the others, but all he saw were strangers in blue police uniforms and more strangers in blue hospital scrubs behind them. Like the Red Sea, they parted suddenly, and a woman with curly brown hair pushed a wheelchair to the front of the crowd, stopping beside the woman holding a walkie-talkie, who Daryl could only assume was Dawn. His heart skipped a beat, as he noticed its occupant was Tara, a cast on her leg and a sleeping baby Judith cradled in her arms.

Daryl's heart began pounding wildly against his ribs, breaking his concentration. _Where was Beth?_ He opened his mouth to voice his frustrations, as the crowd parted once again and then she was there. Clutching a pillowcase, she moved to stand behind Dawn, her clothing soaked red with what could only be blood, plastered to her petite frame like a second skin, her hair a tangled mess of honey streaked with scarlet hanging wildly around her shoulders. What terrified Daryl most was not her state of dress, it was the blank look on her face, void of any emotions.

Amidst the gasps from the group at Beth's shocking appearance, Daryl's relief at seeing her quickly turned to fear and then anger, and without thinking, he took a menacing step forward, only to be halted by Glenn's calming hand on his shoulder. Fighting to keep his emotions under control, he forced himself to breathe. She was _there_ , and she was _alive_ , and that was _all_ that mattered. For now.

"One of mine for one of yours?" Dawn asked, stepping behind the wheelchair that held Tara, intending to get right down to business. There was no need for pleasantries.

"Yeah," Rick nodded, and without taking his eyes off of Dawn, grabbed Lacari by the elbow and guided him forward, more roughly than necessary.

They met in the middle of the hallway for the exchange, Rick quickly wheeling Tara back towards the group, pausing just a moment to brush his lips against his sleeping daughter's head and pat Tara on the shoulder, before turning his attention back to Dawn, while Glenn stepped in to move them behind the protective wall they'd formed with their bodies. Ever cooperative, Shepherd had already stepped forward, and in a show of appreciation, Rick reached down and loosened the knot, freeing her from her bindings. With a nod in Rick's direction, Dawn grasped Beth's upper arm and started moving towards them, and Daryl watched, his heart in his throat, as they made the second exchange.

Time stretched and then stood still. As Daryl observed Rick hook a protective arm around Beth's shoulder and press a paternal kiss to her forehead as he ushered her back towards the group. His stomach clenched and unclenched, Daryl's heart tightening at how pale and fragile she looked. Her feet were bare and the closer she got, Daryl could see the dried blood splatter mottling her face, the fresh wounds on her forehead and cheek, held together by crude, ugly stitches. _What the hell had happened to her?_ _Who hurt her?_ His anger flaring yet again, Daryl needed answers, wanted retribution, but now was not the time.

Unable to keep still any longer, he rushed forward as Rick moved aside. There were so many things he wanted to say as he stared down into her big blue eyes, already welling with tears. Her bottom lip trembled vulnerably, her emotions returning to replace the blank stare, and Daryl was awestruck with how _goddamn_ much he loved this woman, but the words suddenly escaped him, and he knew he couldn't form a sentence, let alone an intelligent thought.

Tentatively, Daryl reached for Beth, ever so gently framing her small oval face in his much larger hands, _feeling_ her and _knowing_ she was _real_ , he leaned down to press his forehead to hers, letting his eyes drift closed and the world fall away for just a moment. And then Beth was throwing herself against his chest, a sob tearing through her as Daryl folded her in his arms, muffling a curse at the sound of Dawn's voice breaking the spell and pulling the world around them back into focus.

"My condolences," the sarcasm dripping from her tone could not be mistaken, as Dawn pretended to pick an invisible fuzz off of her neatly tucked uniform shirt.

"For?" Rick countered, his hand hovering over the colt on his hip.

"Noah," his name rolled of her tongue in a hiss of disdain.

"Noah ain't dead," Rick replied smugly, enjoying her sharp intake of breath.

"Of course," Dawn nodded. "How else could you have known where to find us and slip in so easily?"

"Woulda found you regardless," Rick said confidently, searching the crowd for someone who fit Aaron's description of his partner. "We just need Eric now, and we'll be out of your way."

"Eric didn't come in with your people, and he won't be leaving with them, either," Dawn informed him, recovering quickly from her shock and taking an authoritative stance. She placed her hand on her hips, clearly enjoying the power shift and again having the upper hand.

Rick scratched his beard, taking his own authoritative stance. "That may be so, but his partner is with our people, and he is _indeed_ coming with us."

"He's one of my wards, as was Beth, _and_ Noah. I've lost enough people today," Dawn was adamant. "But if you're willing to return Noah, I'm sure we can make another deal."

"He's a human being, not a piece of property," Rick shot back, his tone evident that he was losing his patience. "I'm done with deals ..."

Daryl felt Beth go rigid in his arms, and then suddenly she was pulling away from him. _No!_ He reached to grab her but she sidestepped him, moving past Rick and evading his grasp as well. Disbelief etching her face, she confronted Dawn in the center of the hallway.

"We already had a _deal_ , Dawn," she spoke calmly.

Dawn shrugged. "Circumstances have _changed_ , Beth," she replied flippantly. "And so have the terms of _our_ deal."

"But I did what you asked ..." Beth stammered in anguish, "what I did ..." She cringed, unable to finish, fighting to remain calm. "You said you had every intention of keepin' your word."

Dawn nodded, "I did, but like I said, circumstances have changed. Your sacrifice has been dually noted. Consider _your_ debt paid in full."

Beth's eyes narrowed to tiny slits, her nostrils flaring in anger. "You bitch," she hissed, disbelief and then determination flickering across her features, she turned to face the crowd of officers and wards that flanked Dawn. "I killed Gorman," she announced loudly, her voice booming down the corridor as she confessed her sins to the onlookers. "I made a deal with Dawn to take him out because he was becoming a _problem_ for her," Beth used Dawn's own words against her. "She gave me the weapon ..."

Dawn swallowed nervously but didn't deny it, as the officers and wards behind her shifted restlessly, some of them whispering amongst themselves.

"I killed Forbes too," Beth continued, her anger fueling her courage. "Dawn knew. She got rid of the body," Beth pointed to Edwards, "and he helped her."

"Tha' hell?" Walsh piped up from the back of the crowd, pushing his way to the front as Edward's lowered his eyes to the floor and shifted uncomfortably.

"Later Walsh!" Dawn threw her hand up to halt him, her eyes never leaving Beth's.

"What are you trying to do here?" She asked through gritted teeth, her voice dropping several octaves. "Turn them against me? They already hate me, but no one else has the balls to step up and take my place, the guts to do what I do. Except _maybe_ Gorman," she smiled cruelly, purposely mentioning _his_ name, and reminding Beth who she could thank for that. "Your Prince Charming stormed the castle with his valiant knights to save you. It's time to take your leave, Princess. You've worn out your welcome, and my patience is wearing thin."

"We had a deal," Beth reminded her again, enunciating each word slowly, shaking her head no and refusing to back down. "I'm not leaving without him."

The hallway remained deathly silent, the tension so thick it was suffocating, as the two women stood off, glaring at each other hatefully, and then with an impatient sigh, Dawn called over her shoulder, "Get Eric."

A moment later as the crowd parted yet again, a gangly man with freckles stepped hesitantly through them. Nervously, he crept past Dawn and Beth, then took cover behind Tyreese.

"C'mon," Rick urged them, now that the exchange was over, he was anxious to go.

Daryl extended his hand, reaching for Beth, as Dawn leaned towards her, speaking something that was clearly meant for only her ears.

"Enjoy your victory while you can. You won't get out alive," she informed Beth with a coy twist of her head. "My officers will pick you off before you even get out of the parking lot. Count on it."

Beth flinched as if she'd been struck and stumbled backwards, then steadied herself. Her face devoid of emotions once more, she regarded Dawn with one delicate blood spattered brow raised. "One more thing, Dawn ..."

Her heavy sigh of annoyance echoed through the hallway. "What's that Beth?" Dawn answered, rolling her eyes.

"I get it _now_ ," Beth said, her voice low, a defiant gleam in her eyes.

Impatient to leave Daryl grabbed for Beth again, his arm brushing against hers a mere second too late, as she moved with fierce intent, thrusting her hand behind her back and yanking a concealed police issued firearm from the waistband of her hospital scrubs. Her speed was undeniable, although time seemed to slow in a surreal way as she swung it around to Dawn's face, flicking the safety and firing off the round before the woman even had a chance to unholster her weapon. The sound of the shot reverberated through the hallway, disorienting everyone, as Dawn pivoted, then fell backwards in what seemed like a slow motion spiral. A shocked look to be forever etched on her face, she crumbled to the ground, blood oozing out of the gunshot hole in the back of her head and pooling beneath her.

Judith began wailing, roused from her sleep as everyone instantly drew their weapons, sparing no time for shock, and Beth dropped hers to the floor, as if it were suddenly on fire. Without hesitating this time, Daryl grabbed her, tucking her protectively in the crook of his arm, and shielding her with his body, prepared to die for her, if that's what it came to, as he kicked the gun somewhere behind him and away from the crowd with their weapons all trained on them.

"Stop!" Shepherd screamed over the din, stepping forward to stand before her fellow officers as more curious wards poked their heads out of their rooms. "Stand down! No one else needs to die. This was just about _her_ ..." She flicked her head towards Dawn's corpse, turning momentarily to share a knowing look with Rick, she bowed her head at him, then turned her attention back to the people now under her care, ordering them all to calm down.

Daryl cautiously walked them backwards towards the group. _It was time to go_.

Moving quickly, they backtracked to the stairwell, Rick standing guard at the double doors as Michonne scooped up Judith and they ditched Tara's wheelchair, Tyreese lifting her against his massive chest, although she protested, stating she could walk. Carefully they descended the stairwell, moving as fast as was safely possible, and piling up in the foyer before the exit. The tearful reunion would have to wait.

Through the large narrow Windows on the door, they could see that the parking lot was riddled with Walkers from their earlier distraction tactics. Michonne hugged Judith closer to her, as Rick glanced nervously between the doors and the top of the stairwell, as if he expected the wards to spring an attack at any minute. It wasn't likely, but it was better to be safe and observant, rather than sorry, and dead.

"We have to fight through," he informed them, dragging his hand down his face in exasperation.

Glenn shook his head. "With Judith? And Tara-"

"I can walk," Tara stubbornly insisted again.

"Maybe," Michonne agreed. "But you can't run."

"It's okay, I can carry her," Tyreese assured them, readjusting her in his arms. "It's not far to Eugene, just make sure you cover me."

"Ya shoot'a gun?" Daryl asked Eric, eyeing the man cautiously. He knew nothing about him, but clearly Beth trusted him. Enough to risk her life going toe to toe with Dawn without even knowing of the arrangement they'd made with Aaron.

Eric swallowed nervously. "I- I have," he stammered. "I- if my life was on the line."

"It is," Beth answered, unhooking herself from Daryl's grasp and taking a seat on the stairs. "Give him a gun," she told them, as she dug her boots out of the pillowcase, pulling out yet another concealed weapon. She quickly drug on her boots, dropping the blue floral dress to the ground as an afterthought, as she tore the pillowcase in half, handing it to Michonne to make a sling for Judith.

Glenn stepped forward, yanking Tyreese's gun from its holster and handed it to Eric, unlocking the safety, while Rick quickly helped Michonne fashion a sling and tuck a protesting Judith inside of it. Cradling the baby tightly against her chest, Michonne drew her katana from its sheath, prepared to cut down anyone and anything that got in their way.

They all shared a final soulful look, knowing that it mattered very little how quiet they were, with Judith primed to cry at any minute. A nod, and then Rick was the first to shove through the doors, a blade in one hand, his gun in the other, as he jumped down from the landing, heading towards the parking lot, trying to clear a path, the others right behind him. They stayed close together, watching each other's backs and cutting down any Walker's that got too close.

Daryl clung to Beth, half dragging her along as they pushed forward, weaving in and out of the abandoned cars that littered the lot, trying to avoid the dead. They had cleared half the parking lot when Tyreese's injured ankle finally gave out, sending him and Tara tumbling to the ground.

Tara cried out in agony, the jolt of the fall sending painful vibrations down her leg and drawing the Walker's right to them, as Tyreese stumbled over her, trying to avoid falling on top of her. Glenn dove for Tara, shoving a clawing Walker away from her as he struggled to hoist her from the ground on his own. Hesitant to let Beth go, Daryl sent a bolt flying, catching the persistent Walker in the face and sending it toppling backwards away from Glenn and Tara, as a panicking Eric began firing into the crowd.

"Keep going!" Daryl waved ahead to Michonne and Rick, stopping them from doubling back to help, as he stooped to assist Glenn in pulling Tara into a standing position.

"Piggy back!" Beth yelled to him, over the roar of the hungry dead, sending a bullet whizzing by his head and taking down a Walker that had snuck up behind him. "Piggy back!" She screamed again, shoving Eric forward.

Of course, a serious piggy back! Quickly tossing his crossbow strap over his head and adjusting it to lay across his chest, Daryl hooked Tara's arms around his neck and hoisted her onto his back as gently as he could manage, cringing when she cried out in pain yet again. Gripping her up under her knees, he yelled for Glenn to get Beth and began running towards Rick and Michonne.

Tara clutched him tightly, screeching as the whirring sound of a stray bullet pinged off of the side mirror of a parked car beside of them. Another one chased it, embedding itself in a Walker's skull, flinging it backwards before it dropped to the pavement.

"Tha hell?" Daryl growled, unsure of where the bullets were coming from as another Walker in front of him toppled backwards onto its comrades, a telltale hole in its head.

"It's Shepherd!" Rick yelled from ahead, pointing up at the roof of the hospital to a handful of officers. "They're helping! Keep moving!"

With Tara's arms obstructing his neck, Daryl couldn't turn to look and make sure Beth was behind him. "Beth!" He screamed her name, unable to stop and unwilling to keep moving without her, he began slowing ...

"Here," she answered his call. "Keep going! _I won't leave you_ ..."

That was all he needed to hear, as Daryl picked up the pace, panting as he bobbed and weaved his way between the cars. They were nearing the end of the parking lot, when suddenly a pair of headlights caught them in their beams, and a minivan came barreling towards them at full speed, its tires squealing on the pavement.

Just barely missing Rick, it screeched to a halt, Eugene behind the wheel, yelling for them to hurry and get in. Rick tore open the passenger side doors, funneling the group inside as Daryl deposited Tara into the front seat and slammed the door.

"C'mon!" He yelled to Beth and Glenn, shoving them in the van, as Rick began firing at the Walkers attempting to close in on them. "Go! Go! Go!" He yelled to Eugene as he jumped inside, literally grabbing Rick around the waist and pulling him in the van, the sliding door still hanging open, as Eugene peeled away.

They sped out of the parking lot and onto the main road, Eugene finally slowing down as they approached the side street where they had left the Jeep parked. The place where Eugene would have been waiting, not saving their asses, if he had listened and stuck to the plan.

"So how'd my smoke bombs work?" He asked nonchalantly, as he pulled up beside the Jeep.

"Like a charm," Rick answered, clasping him on the shoulder before climbing out of the van. "For once, I'm glad you didn't listen."

"Yeh," Daryl agreed, ducking out and moving to let Glenn climb out. "Good call."

Eugene puffed up at the compliments, proudly beaming at Tara beside him in the passenger seat as the others climbed out of the back of the van. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she smiled back and made and offhand comment about missing his hair.

Extending his hand, Daryl reached for Beth, entwining their fingers, as he pulled her from the backseat. They were safe for the time being, having a moment to regroup and breathe, the perfect opportunity to ask her some of the things that were running through his mind, but all Daryl wanted to do was hold her. And so he did.

Folding her into his embrace and not giving a shit who was watching, he ran his hands up and down her back, resting his chin on the top of her head, as he watched Rick gently pluck Judith from the sling, and finally get the chance to hug his baby daughter. He felt Beth sigh and looked down to see that she was watching Rick and Judith too, the faintest hint of a smile touching the corners of her mouth.

Still clutching Judith tightly against him, a misty eyed Rick approached Beth, and for the second time that night, pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you for keeping my little girl safe."

Beth smiled momentarily, reaching to brush her fingertips against Judith's plump cheek. "You don't ever have to thank me for that", she replied softly. "I love her as if she were mine."

"She probably thinks she is," Rick replied, returning the smile. Balancing Judith in his arms, he tugged the Walkie-Talkie from his pocket. "Would you like to do the honors?" He asked, holding it out to Beth.

As if on cue, Maggie's voice came over the walkie-talkie. "Rick? Glenn? Rick, come in. Can you hear me?"

Beth wrapped her slender fingers around its base, taking it from Rick and sucked in a shaky breath. Instinctively, Daryl tightened his grip on her waist, supporting her, anchoring her, holding her up as she had done for him in the past.

The walkie crackled, as Maggie's impatient voice came through again. "Are you's alright? Is Beth ... Did you find my sister?"

"Maggie," Beth whispered into the Walkie-Talkie, and Daryl couldn't tell if her voice was cracking from emotion or exhaustion or both. "It's me."

"Beth?" Maggie's voice cried back, ecstatic and disbelieving all at once. "Is it really you, Doodlebug?"

"It is. I'll see you soon," Beth replied, handing the walkie-talkie to Glenn, she turned and buried her face in Daryl's chest once more.

Daryl released a deep breath, content to hold her for the rest of his life, if that was her wish. "C'mon," he coaxed her to the jeep, opening the passenger door and lifting her onto the seat.

Leaning over her, Daryl reached to retrieve a water bottle from the center console and twisted off the cap. "Yer'a mess, Greene. Let's clean ya up a bit," he spoke softly to her, the corner of his mouth lifting into an awkward half smile. He pulled up the bottom of his flannel shirt, pouring some water on it, and pressed it to her face, gently wiping away the red streaks and splatter spots. The loving gesture only seemed to make her cry more, and Daryl began to question if he'd done the right thing, when Beth reached to place a trembling hand over his, in silent reassurance.

Daryl swallowed the lump lodged in his throat, his gut twisting that after what had just transpired, after all she had been through, she was still taking care to reassure his insecurities. "Beth ..." He groaned her name, dropping his shirt and wrapping his arms around her again, knowing that he would never tire of feeling her there, close to his heart, where she belonged.

The tender moment was short-lived as the van engine started, and with a gut wrenching sigh, Daryl very reluctantly released Beth, stepping back so he could close the passenger door. Quickly making his way to drivers side, he pushed his seat forward so Eric could climb in the backseat, depositing his crossbow beside him, and jumped behind the wheel.

The drive back to the rendezvous point was a short one thankfully, as Daryl found it hard to take his eyes off of Beth when he knew he should be concentrating on the road. She had stopped crying, but he doubted that would last, knowing fresh tears would fall as soon as she saw her sister, and he was right. Daryl hadn't even had a chance to pull up the e-brake before Maggie came plowing out of the bus, nearly ripping the jeep door off of its hinges, to fling her arms around her little sister.

"What happened to you?" She cried, taking in Beth's blood soaked clothing, the blood splatter and streaks of red on her face and in her hair. "Are you hurt?" She bombarded her baby sister with questions, her eyes narrowing when she saw the two sets of stitches. "Who hurt you?"

"Later," was all Beth managed to say between sobs.

Daryl wanted to know the answers to those questions too, but he wasn't going to push the issue. Not right now. Beth would tell him when she was ready, or she wouldn't tell him at all, but that was up to her. Hell, she probably knew more about him than anybody, but even she didn't know _everything_. He knew more than most, some things were better left in the past.

Daryl climbed out of the jeep, again pushing his seat forward so Eric could climb out, grabbing his crossbow, and moving out of the way so Aaron and Eric could have their own tearful reunion. They embraced, laughing through their tears and Daryl was certain then that Eric was the one who owned the bracelet Aaron wore around his wrist.

"We shouldn't linger too long," Rick advised them, his arms wrapped protectively around his children, as he scanned both directions of the side street they were parked on.

A Walker was moving towards them at a snails pace, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. Of course, that could change in the blink of an eye. Daryl waited until it got a little closer then took it out with a well aimed bolt.

Tara's cries of pain finally kicking everyone into gear, Abe pulled her from the van, transferring her to the bus where at least Carol had some over the counter pain reliever. As a safety measure, they decided to all relocate inside of the bus to figure out their next move. Hanging back a bit, as to not intrude on the sisters, Daryl kept guard by the door, keeping an eye on the dog as he trotted out to take care of business.

As Tara was nestled safely in the seat across from Sasha, and Carol busied herself caring for another injured patient, Maggie herded Beth into one of the empty front seats, handing her a sweater. The noise level in the bus rose to a hum as everyone began talking at the same time, but Abe, ever impatient, was the first to broach the subject at hand.

"So where to?" He asked, seating himself in the empty seat across from Noah.

"To the community," Maggie answered, still intent on following through with the deal she'd struck, her eyes locking on Aaron's face. "To Virginia."

"You've invited them to Alexandria?" Eric asked, fixing Aaron with a huge smile, seemingly delighted at the prospect.

Aaron cocked his head, "Not exactly."

"Exactly what, then?" Maggie moved towards him, momentarily forgetting about Beth.

"Yes, what?" Eric backed Maggie. "These people risked their lives for me, a _stranger_. Beth risked her life ... These are good people, Aaron."

Aaron swallowed nervously, afraid of bringing both Eric and Maggie's wrath down upon himself. "Well, Rick-"

"I told him we'd see how things panned out," Rick finally spoke up, taking the heat off of Aaron. "We don't know this group, they're far away -"

"About a day's drive," Eric informed them. "Or night," he shrugged, casting his eyes towards the bus windows. "We'd be there by morning."

"Then let's go," Maggie was insistent.

Aaron shifted uncomfortably, "It's just that, we don't get the final say on who stays."

"But you said you were recruiters," Maggie shot back.

"We are," Aaron insisted. "We do recruit new members, but our leader is the one who makes the final decision. It's always been like that."

"And has your leader ever turned away anyone you've brought back?" Glenn asked, running his hand down his agitated wife's back, in a failing attempt to calm her.

Aaron's gaze drifted downward, "Yes," he replied honestly.

"Well hell," Abe barked, slamming his meaty fist down onto the back of his seat and causing an already nervous Aaron to flinch.

Maggie pursed her lips, her hand drifting over her stomach protectively. "We'll make him understand then. Our people are hurt, they need real medical attention, we .."

"We can guarantee that," Eric blurted out, stepping forward. "For all that you've done. For helping us," he paused, sharing a knowing look with Aaron. "Even if we can only provide temporary sanctuary. Even if you have to all stay in our home. We guarantee your injured will be seen by Alexandria's doctor and properly treated."

Daryl's hand drifted down to the hilt of Beth's knife, as he leaned against the bus seat watching everyone intently. Where else did they have to go? The original plan had always been to head north, and frankly, he didn't care where they ended up, as long as it was together. _And Beth was by his side._ Winter was still coming.

"We need to give this a shot, Rick" Michonne voiced her opinion, reaching to take Judith from his arms. "Too many of us are injured. If there's even a small chance that we can stay ...that Carl and Judith can have some real normalcy ... we have to try."

Rick was silent a moment, weighing his options. He let his eyes drift over everyone in the bus, then palmed his face, sweeping his hand back through his hair. "We only go if everyone's willing ..." He paused, allowing anyone with doubts to speak up. No one protested, not even Abe. "Okay then," he said with finality, nodding his head as if to reassure himself.

With the plan in place, those who were driving exited the bus, while those who were staying settled into their seats, as Daryl went for Beth, only to discover she had fallen asleep. His heart lurched in his chest, for as much as he didn't want to be separated from her again, not even for the short duration of the drive, he couldn't bring himself to wake her, either. A warning look from Maggie told him he had better not. With a heavy heart, he turned to leave the bus, the dumb dog trotting behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry that this took so long. I hope you enjoyed this update! xoxo -Lis


	41. Mercy For The Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group has arrived at the safe zone ....but will they be permitted to stay?

Daryl rubbed his face vigorously, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, and patted the head of scruffy dog in the passenger seat beside him. The sun was pushing up over the horizon ahead, a glowing red orb peeping up against the backdrop of the inky night sky. Such a stark and surreal contrast, Daryl almost wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The caravan had driven straight through the night with no breaks and he was having trouble fighting off the exhaustion he felt from his lack of sleeping the last few days. At this point, the only thing that was keeping him from dozing off at the wheel was all the crazy shit racing through his mind.

What had happened to Beth at the hospital? Not knowing was driving him half mad, his mind coming up with all sorts of scenarios, the next one always worst than the one before it. Who had hurt her? Put those cuts on her face? Were those the men she had admitted to killing? _They were lucky they were dead then_. Beth had shown them a kindness that Daryl would not have.

He cracked the window, his festering anger causing his body temperature to rise, and reached into his shirt pocket for his smokes. It felt like ages since he'd last had one ... or at least three miles. Popping one between his lips, he pushed the car lighter in, impatiently waiting for the coil to heat up and instantly grabbing for it as soon as he heard the tell-tale _pop_.

The dog whimpered as Daryl lit his cigarette and jammed the lighter roughly back into the console. "Mind yer damn business," he growled, as he took a drag and blew the smoke out his window. "Ya rather walk?"

As if he understood, Willy hopped into the back seat, circled twice and laid down, draping his front paw over his snout. Daryl snorted, watching the mutts antics from the rear-view mirror. _Dumb dog_. Probably had to pee or something ... Maybe he should signal the other cars and they should take a quick break? Shouldn't they be close by now? They'd been driving non-stop for hours.

He wondered if Beth was still sleeping? Was she right now telling her sister what had happened at the hospital? Telling her what Dawn had whispered that caused her to put a bullet in her brain? A slight twinge of jealousy stabbed at Daryl's heart. Though he felt guilty for doing so, he envied Maggie's time with Beth right now. Even if it was just to watch her sleep ...

He'd done that before. Not recently, but when they were out on the run alone after the prison fell. At night when he was keeping watch, while his mind wrestled with the feelings she evoked from him, he'd study her features, serene with sleep.

Again, a pang of guilt stabbed through his chest as he remembered how angry he'd been then, when he felt like he was being punished for being stuck with her. The weakest of the bunch ... his burden, his penance for letting everyone down. For not finding and killing the Governor before he came back and destroyed their home. All their blood, sweat and tears, and Hershel, struck down in front of the two people he loved the most in this world ...all of it gone, in the literal blink of an eye.

Like so many others, Daryl too, had underestimated Beth Greene. Her resilience, and determination. Her willingness to keep going long after no one thought she could. But mostly, her uncanny ability to see the good and beauty that was still left in this godless decaying world around them. Her innate goodness was what made her anything but weak. He understood that now, and not just because he had fallen in love with her.

He understood and would _never_ let anyone take that away from her. _Ever_.

Taking a final deep drag from the cigarette uncomfortably close to burning his fingers, Daryl inhaled, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before slowly exhaling and wishing he could release his growing anxiety as easily. Quickly flicking the spent butt out his window, he reached for the stick shift and downshifted, as the caravan began to slow its pace and turn off of the main road they'd been traveling for the last twelve miles.

The side street was littered with abandoned cars and homes, no different from any other decaying place they'd been before. Lawns overgrown, front doors wide open - some hanging off the hinges, broken windows, and garbage littering what had once probably been nicely manicured yards in what Daryl assumed was long ago a pristine uppity looking neighborhood. The bus ahead of him slowed to a crawl, causing him to downshift again, winding the Jeep out in first gear. The sun was higher now, blinding him as he squinted against the windshield to see what was happening. Were they here? The hiss of the buses hydraulic brakes gave Daryl his answer.

Pushing in the clutch, he shifted the Jeep into neutral and cut the engine, jerking the e-brake up as he cautiously slipped out of the drivers side door. "Stay," he muttered to the dog, as he grabbed his crossbow.

"Daryl," Rick's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie in his vest pocket, causing him to startle from the unexpected noise.

Daryl quickly fished it out of his pocket, cursing as he fumbled with the button," Yeh?"

"Everything okay back there?"

Daryl jerked his head around, eyeing the quiet side street for anything moving. "Yeh," he answered back, finding nothing amiss and surprisingly not a Walker in sight.

"Okay. I'm heading up to the gate with Aaron. Sit tight for a few."

"Yeh," he answered back yet again, moving around to the side of the bus for a better view.

Rick and Aaron were already out of the pick-up truck and moving towards the tall chain link fence, covered by some sort of semi-transparent tarp. A handmade sign was affixed to the steel wall beside it. It read: **The Alexandria Safe Zone - Mercy For The Lost**.

Daryl snorted. Mercy, huh? Sure ... if you met their approval. Shoulda added that little disclaimer ... The walls were high, though. High and sturdy looking. _Fenced in_.

With a squealing sound, the gate with the semi-transparent tarp slid sideways, and an older man with a receding hairline in blue dickies greeted Aaron and Rick through the steel bars. The smile faded from his face as he took in Rick and the line of vehicles flanking him, and Daryl started to get the inkling that the promise Aaron and Eric made to them might have been a bit premature ... His feet moving of their own volition propelled him forward until he was close enough to be within earshot.

"You know the rules about bringing in large groups," the man in the blue dickies said flatly.

"I do," Aaron nodded in agreement. "And I understand your apprehension, friend. I also know that the only reason Eric and I made it back home was largely due to _this_ group. They already know that they may not be permitted to stay permanently, but surely we can at least treat their injured? Show them the same hospitality they showed me and allow them a safe place to rest up for a few days?"

The man was quiet for a moment, contemplating Aaron's plea as he looked Rick up and down, then with a nod, he turned to whomever was cloaked by the tarp beside him and directed them to get Deanna. "You'll all have to check your weapons," he said, reaching to unlock the gate and opening it wide enough for the vehicles to squeeze through.

"Check our weapons?" Rick asked, very obviously uncomfortable.

Aaron nodded, "It's nothing personal. Just a general rule here ...only those with guard duty carry weapons."

Daryl didn't like the sound of that either. Stomping harder than necessary, he made his way back to the jeep and none to gently deposited his crossbow into the passenger seat, thoughts of Terminus, Woodbury and Haywood Regional permeating his brain. Any time they came into contact with other large groups of people, it never seemed to end well. Although, usually for the other group ... he still did not like the added vulnerability.

Pushing in the clutch, Daryl turned the key, shifted into first gear and slowly let out the clutch, propelling the jeep forward in a jerking motion, as he followed the vehicle caravan through the gates. Following the directional cues of a tall dark haired preppy looking guy, Daryl pulled the jeep up past the bus and parked it flush with the pick-up truck. Pulling up the e-brake, he quickly yanked Beth's knife from his sheath and shoved it into his boot, not willing to part with it, as he climbed from the jeep, deliberately leaving his crossbow sitting in the passenger seat.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Daryl took note of his new surroundings, cursing as Willy leapt out behind him, refusing to be left behind again. "Damn dog!"

"It's okay," the man in the blue dickies said with a jovial chuckle. "He just wants to stretch his legs a bit. I'll keep an eye on him while you guys get settled," then added, "names Tobin," with a polite nod.

"Daryl," he mumbled his name back after only a moments hesitation, returning the nod as Rick and Aaron approached them.

"I sent for Deanna," Tobin informed them. "As soon as you check your weapons, you can head down to the infirmary."

"We're probably going to need assistance with that," Aaron replied. "There's a few in too bad of shape to walk."

Rick flagged the okay to the other drivers, and the van and bus doors hissed open, their occupants that could move on their own, slowly exiting the vehicles, their joints stiff from hours of sitting immobile. Eugene, Rosita and Father Gabriel emerging from the van, were the first to join them, Rosita biting back an icy retort when she was ordered to hand over her weapons, hurled a disapproving look at Aaron, but did so anyway at Rick's urging.

Daryl ignored them all, dumping his own knife onto the rolling cart provided for their weapons, his eyes settling on Beth as she stumbled from the bus, momentarily raising her hand to block the sun. She moved away from the doors as to not muck up the exit, then lowered her arm and closed her eyes, turning her face up to the warm rays beating down upon her, a smile slowly creeping onto her face. She was still a blood spattered mess, and she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Daryl started towards her, as she opened her eyes and fixed her baby blues on him. Neither of them said anything, _it was not the time or place for that_ , but they both felt the pull, the need to be close to one another, and as if they were of one mind, they clasped hands, their fingers interlocking in quiet solidarity.

As more Alexandrian's gathered around them, curious about this pack of newcomers, they helped to get the injured off of the bus, and before Daryl knew it, they had somehow all ended up at the infirmary, the events of the morning passing by in a blur, as the resident doctor began to check on his new patients. Noah, Sasha and Tara were immediately attended too, and once they were settled in comfortably, the others were checked over. Carol was given an actual sling, while Gabriel's head wound was cleaned and properly re-bandaged, and Tyrese got his sprained ankle wrapped again.

"So who's responsible for this group that's got my people all in a frenzy?" An older woman asked from the doorway. She was small in stature, petite and very slim but instantly commanded the room with her presence.

"I am," Rick stepped forward, Judith tucked in the crook of his arm.

"And you are?" She asked with a smile.

"Rick Grimes," he answered.

"Deanna Monroe," she countered. "Aaron tells me you and your group are responsible for getting him and Eric back here safely," she paused, feigning a stern look. "And for that shiner on his eye."

Daryl snorted.

"Or was that you?" She asked, diverting her attention to Daryl now. "Mr ...?"

"Daryl."

"Mr. Daryl?"

"Yeh, it was me," Daryl replied, no sense in lying.

"Hmmm," Deanna scowled, turning back to Rick. "I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Grimes ...we don't take in large groups anymore. We had a situation awhile back ...that group did not play well with others," she said, reaching out to stick her finger in Judith's meaty little fist. "However," she continued, smiling up at Judith as she spoke. "Both Aaron and Eric speak very highly of all of you, and so I have agreed to take some time to consider allowing you to stay on permanently. In the meantime, your people will have sanctuary with us while your wounded recover."

Rick nodded his head. "That's fair."

"Under one condition ..." Her smile broadened as she held out her arms, "you let me hold that precious little girl."

Rick blew out the breath he'd been holding in, relief flooding his features. They were all physically and emotionally drained and it was becoming harder to mask that in front of strangers. Gently, he set his daughter into Deanna's open arms.

"Well aren't you a pretty girl?" Deanna cooed to Judith, smiling down at her. "It's been so long since we've seen a baby. I wasn't sure I'd see one again before my time came ..." she let her voice trail off, turning her eyes back up to Rick. "So we'll get you all settled into some temporary housing and let Pete and Denise get back to making your people well."

She turned, still clutching Judith in her arms, and exited the infirmary, leaving Rick and the others to follow. "Come on," she tossed over her shoulder. "You can come back here any time."

Daryl followed behind Rick and Michonne, gently tugging Beth forward, as the chubby blonde now known as Denise, chased after them. "Miss ... wait," she called after Beth.

Daryl and Beth turned to the sound of her voice, pausing in the doorway momentarily and holding up the line. She quickly thrust a jar of salve into Beth's hand.

"This will help minimize your scars," she informed them, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "How long have your sutures been in?"

"A few days," Beth answered, pointing to the one on her forehead, and then to the one on her cheek, "And a day," she finished.

Denise smiled. "Come back and see me in two days and we'll take the older ones out."

Beth nodded, then pressed herself closer to Daryl, her grip on his hand tightening. They stepped outside together, where the others were waiting, and collectively followed Deanna up the street. She stopped a ways up and indicated four houses with the wave of her hand.

"Each of these homes has three bedrooms, I'll leave you's to divide them as you see fit. We have solar panel electricity and running water, there are clothing in the closets as well as the necessary toiletries you'll need. I'll have someone bring you by some food -"

"We have plenty of food," Rick informed her. "We don't wanna impose," he added, not wanting to be rude.

Deanna shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'll have to ask you to leave your weapons checked until you leave, but you're free to bring your belongings back." Carefully, she turned and after pecking Judith's plump little cheek, returned her to her fathers arms. "I'm just around the corner, if you need me, and Aaron and Eric live right there," she pointed to one of the houses across the street.

"Thank you," Rick said, hugging Judith to his chest, and with one more nod, Deanna Monroe turned and continued up the street.

They split themselves between the four houses, Abe, Rosita and Eugene taking the first. Carol, Gabriel and Tyrese taking the second. Rick, Michonne, Carl and Judith taking the third, and Daryl and Beth sharing the fourth with Glenn and Maggie. After they had gone back to the bus to retrieve their belongings and the dumb dog, Daryl begrudgingly turned in his crossbow, just wanting to get Beth cleaned up and out of those damn bloody hospital scrubs. With a plan in place to all meet up at Rick's in a few hours, most of them still uneasy about losing their weapons, they all set about to settle in.

"You think it's safe here?" Glenn asked, looking up at the cathedral ceiling of the foyer, as they stepped into the house.

"I do," Maggie answered, running her hand along the smooth banister of the staircase, peering up the stairs. "Makes no sense that they would turn on us when they didn't want us here to begin with."

Daryl dropped his bag by the door and headed around the corner to the kitchen, setting down the crate of food they'd brought for themselves. They'd unpack it later, if at all. Glenn, Maggie and Beth had already made their way up the stairs, too tired to care about eating.

Scooping up his bag, Daryl took the steps two at a time, finding Beth had already picked out their bedroom. She sat at the foot of a king sized bed with too many oversized pillows and a satiny blue comforter, stroking Willy's fur.

"They wanted the room in the front," Beth explained, the first real words she had spoken to him all day. "So we get the room with the attached bathroom."

As if he knew it was time to go, Willy leaped off the bed and bounded out of the room, his paws slapping against the wood floors. Daryl shut the door behind him, mindful to twist the lock in case Maggie or Glenn decided to barge in unexpectedly. Beth remained quiet as he stepped into the bathroom, flipping on the light switch and checked out the over-sized tub and shower to match the over-sized bed. Daryl never in his life imagined seeing a bathroom this big, let alone using one. It was almost the size of the room they'd shared back at the lodge.

Deciding a bath would likely be more soothing to her, Daryl reached for the faucet and adjusted the water before stopping the tub. True to Deanna's words, the bathroom was stocked with what they needed. Grabbing for a bottle with pink roses on it, he uncapped it and dumped some under the stream, inhaling the scent of rose petals as bubbles began forming on top of the water. _Wouldn't be the first time he smelled like a girl_.

Satisfied, he returned to Beth who hadn't moved a muscle in his absence. Shrugging out of his vest, he dropped it on the floor, then dropped to his knees before her, pressing his forehead against her hands that were folded in her lap. She drew in a ragged breath, and then he felt her fingers in his hair, stroking him softly and Daryl relished in her touch, missing these tender moments between them.

Lifting his head, he grasped her wrists, pulling her hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to her fingertips, then pushed himself back, sliding his hands down her calves and tugged off each of her boots. That task behind him, he pulled himself back into a standing position, gently heaving her up with him, and stepped back to pull his tattered flannel shirt up over his head, discarding it on the plush beige carpet, beside his vest.

"C'mon sweetheart," he murmured, reaching for her hand and escorting her into the bathroom. The tub was damn near full to overflowing, and Beth giggled as Daryl cracked his funny bone on the door frame as he lunged to turn the water off.

"Dammit," he cursed, cradling his injured elbow. "Shit ain't funny," he barked, then began laughing too, as her giggles turned to hysterical infectious laughter. "Ya done now?" He asked finally, as she wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. Truthfully, it felt so good to hear her laugh.

Kicking off his boots, Beth's knife clattered to the floor, and Daryl quickly bent to retrieve it, forgetting that he had stuffed it in there. "Found it after ..." his words trailed off, as he placed it on the bathroom vanity. "I never ... uh. I felt closer ta ya when I was wearin' it," he admitted, feeling kind of sheepish. "Ya can take it back now," he offered, scratching an imaginary itch at the back of his neck.

"You should keep it," Beth said so softly, he almost had to strain his ears to hear her.

Daryl nodded, still feeling kind of awkward, he fumbled to undo his pants. "C'mon Greene, water's gettin' cold."

Beth reached for the bottom of her top, tugging it up and exposing her belly, trying to mask the wince of pain that flashed across her face, but Daryl didn't miss a beat. Embarrassed, she pushed her shirt back down and stood stoic, her fingers tightly fisting the fabric, her eyes firmly planted on the plush bathroom rug under her bare feet.

Daryl was on her in an instant, "Beth ..." he breathed her name, more than he said it. "What is it, girl?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly. Too quickly.

Ever so gently, Daryl unclasped her fingers from the bunched fabric, and not to be deterred, slid the top back up her body and over her head, exposing an ugly purple bruise on her shoulder, and an even uglier bite mark beneath it, on her breast. Anger, white hot and excruciating tore through him, so fiercely he clutched the bathroom sink to keep himself from doubling over.

"Who did this ta ya?" He growled in a voice so harsh he didn't even recognize it himself.

"I-it doesn't matter," Beth stammered, her bottom lip began to tremble as her big blue eyes welled up with unshed tears.

"It does, matter!" Daryl yelled, slamming his fist down onto the counter. "Who? Was it one of tha ones ya killed?" He couldn't help it, as he peppered her with questions, the words spilling out of his mouth uncontrollably like vomit. "Did he ... did he..." he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"No!" Beth hollered back at him, the tears now spilling down her cheeks in torrents, she sunk down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her naked chest, sobbing uncontrollably as she rocked back and forth chanting, "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay."

So this is what it felt like to truly be heartbroken, Daryl thought to himself, tears springing to his own eyes as he knelt down beside her. He had thought the heartache he felt when she had been taken, not once, but twice, was the worst feeling he'd ever experienced, but this far encompassed that. Beth was _not_ okay. And watching the person you loved suffer without being able to undo the damage was a sickening, helpless feeling of anguish that hurt Daryl far more than any lash from his fathers belt ever had.

She flinched, as he placed his hand on the small of her back, and Daryl let out his own sob, his own tears flowing freely now as his heart felt like it had just shattered into a million pieces, the broken shards piercing him and killing him slowly from the inside out, as he gently tried to tug her into his arms. She resisted only a moment and then buried her face against his chest, her tears hot against his chilled naked skin.

"M'sorry," he murmured against her hair, "Beth, I'm so sorry. I left ya unprotected," the guilt he felt came bubbling to the surface, engulfing him. "I wasn't there when ya needed me..."

_Stupid. Redneck. Asshole. Failure._

She cried harder then, as a violent shudder tore through her small frame, and Daryl was unsure if the cause was her grief or the chill in the room. Knowing the bath water had grown cold long ago now, he scooted them backwards into the shower stall, reaching up to turn the knob all the way to hot before pulling the lever and releasing the warm water down onto them. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, Daryl smoothed Beth's hair back from her face, rocking her like an infant under the hot shower spray as he whispered reassurances to her. Reassurances that even he himself did not believe.

His beautiful song bird was broken, and he, already a pitiful broken man himself, had no idea how to fix her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough chapter for me. If I hurt you - good. It was intended to be painful.  
> However it made you feel, I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for tuning in! :) xoxo -Lis


	42. If you must mourn my love, mourn with the moon and the stars up above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She'd held him up once, long ago, when the world had grown too heavy - even for his broad shoulders. She was tough. She didn't know it, but she was. Could Daryl help pull her back from the brink?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much love to YOU, Ben! This story would not be possible without your guidance and encouragement. You are a TRUE friend.  
> I drew a lot of inspiration from "Still" for this chapter .... it was a bittersweet journey.

It was Maggie he'd gone to for help. After he'd cleaned Beth up the best he could, washing the blood from her hair, and finally coaxing her to stand. She clung to the shower wall while he wrestled with taking off the sodden pants that were plastered to her now like a second skin. Taking care not to let his hands linger on one spot of her naked body too long, he'd washed her clean, wrapped her in a fluffy over-sized towel, and carried her to the bed, setting her gently on the blue satin comforter.

At some point Beth had stopped crying, and now that same scary blank look that Daryl had seen on her face last night in the hallway at Haywood Regional, had returned. Unsure what else to do, he quickly sought out the other Greene sister for help. Maggie didn't ask him why he was standing in her bedroom doorway half dressed and soaking wet. She told Glenn to go back to sleep and immediately followed Daryl down the hallway, still half asleep herself.

Taking a seat on the bed beside Beth, Maggie cupped her chin, searching her sisters blank face, her mouth set in a grim line. "Don't do this to me again Bethy," she whispered, reaching to tug a t-shirt over Beth's head, concealing her nakedness, then began to gently towel her hair dry. "Don't you go where I can't follow ..."

Maggie had no comforting words for Daryl. If she took note of the bite and bruises mottling her sisters flesh, she did not mention it. He watched quietly from the doorway, not wanting to get in the way, but refusing to leave Beth. He didn't care that he was freezing cold or that his soaking wet pants were starting to chafe his damp skin whenever he moved.

Once Beth was tucked underneath the plush comforter, Maggie shoved Daryl out into the hallway. "Ya need to go get one of the doctors."

"Is she -"

"Just go now," Maggie said, keeping her voice calm, Daryl suspected for his benefit.

She didn't have to tell him twice. Barefoot and bare chested, Daryl turned and ran, his feet slapping on the wood floors of the house, and then on the pavement outside as he covered the short distance to the infirmary. Bursting through the door, he ignored the surprised inquiries of Tara, as he demanded a doctor come with him immediately. It was Denise who stopped what she was doing, and after grabbing a medical bag, quickly followed him back to the house.

Wasting no time, Denise dropped her bag at the bottom of the bed, fishing into it for her stethoscope so she could listen to Beth's heartbeat. "Heart's beating fast," she commented, more to herself than the others, as she grabbed Beth's wrist to feel her pulse. "How long has she been like this?" She asked, pulling her stethoscope down around her neck, and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Beth's upper arm.

Truthfully Daryl didn't know how long he'd sat in the shower with Beth, so he guessed. "'Bout an hour or so?"

Denise didn't acknowledge whether or not she heard him, as she continued with her examination. Pumping up the cuff, she indicated for them to be quiet, as Glenn stumbled into the room, concern furrowing his brow as he asked what was going on.

"Her blood pressure is slightly elevated," Denise mumbled again to herself, releasing the velcro of the cuff and then stuffing it back into her bag. "What's her name?" She asked, fishing into her jacket for a tiny flashlight looking object.

"Beth," Maggie replied, leaning into Glenn's embrace. "Her names Beth."

"Can you hear me, Beth?" Denise asked, leaning over to shine the light in Beth's eyes, checking her dilated pupils, then placed the back of her hand against her forehead, feeling for warmth. "Non responsive and she's got a bit of a fever."

"This has happened before," Maggie offered.

"When?" Daryl and Denise asked in unison.

Maggie stepped closer to the bed, "About two years ago," then turned to Daryl, "back at the farm ...after Shane ...after the barn."

A distant memory rushed back at Daryl, of Walkers stumbling out of Hershel's barn, Sophia, whom he'd searched so long and so hard for, heartbreakingly among them. Gunfire erupting as they took them all out, and a much younger Beth, freaking out after being attacked by the reanimated corpse of her mother. He remembered Lori seeking him out a few hours later to find Rick and Hershel ... telling him that Beth was in some sort of catatonic state. He had refused to help then, too busy feeling sorry for himself, and then felt horribly guilty later when he heard the chattering around camp that Beth had tried to take her own life. "But she was okay then ..." he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"She was," Maggie confirmed. "Daddy gave her -"

"A sedative," Denise finished for her, removing a syringe and small vial from her bag. "Right? That's what I'm going to do as well."

She pierced the vial with the needle, then swabbed Beth's arm with an alcohol pad before sticking the needle in her arm. "It's all I can do ...make sure her body isn't working too hard so she can rest and work through the trauma."

"She gon' be okay?" Daryl asked, his heart suddenly racing. He didn't like the doctors use of the word trauma.

Denise sighed as she began packing her medical supplies back into her bag. "Physically, yes." She paused to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Mentally ...I can't say for sure. That all depends on her."

"That's it?" Maggie asked, her voice rising an octave.

"When she wakes up, try to get some water into her and keep her hydrated. I don't want to start an IV drip unless I absolutely have too," Denise instructed them, pushing her slipping glasses up again. "If anything changes, come get me. Otherwise, I'll be back to check on her tomorrow, and remove her sutures."

"Thank you," Glenn nodded, as Denise squeezed past them and let herself out.

With the doctor gone, Maggie moved back to the bed, pulling the comforter back up snugly over her now sleeping sister, and smoothed her hand across Beth's cheek. "Get some rest, Daryl, and get outta them wet clothes before ya catch your death. Ain't gonna be good to any of us, then," she chastised him.

"What my wife means, is that you need to take care of yourself too," Glenn added.

"I ain't -"

"I know you aren't going to leave her side and I'm not asking you to, but you do need to sleep. You've been awake for days. We all do," he turned to Maggie, extending his outstretched hand to her. "And you too."

With one more soulful look at Beth, Maggie took Glenn's hand, allowing him to lead her from the room. "You come get me the minute she wakes up," she reminded him.

Daryl remained silent, nodding his head that he understood as they passed by him and left the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind them. A moment later he heard their bedroom door click shut too.

Pushing his hands through his damp hair, Daryl sat down on the armchair by the bed, and looked at Beth, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed. She looked peaceful now, her blues eyes no longer staring blankly ahead ...seeing but _not_ seeing. He reached forward and took her limp hand in his, her skin warm against his own icy cold flesh, and willed her to be okay. His whole damn life Daryl had been a survivor in one way or another, but he wasn't sure he had the strength to survive this. And - he didn't want to. _She had to be okay._

Gently releasing her hand, he stood and finally slid his wet pants off, digging in his bag for another pair, instead of helping himself to the ones stuffed in the dresser drawers for their hospitality. Shuffling to the window, he peered through the blinds, guessing it was about noon by the suns position, then twisted the cord to block out the light.

Knowing Glenn and Maggie were right about needing sleep, he padded softly to the bed, lowering himself down onto it as gently as possible as to not jostle Beth, and climbed under the blanket. Turning onto his side, he scooted closer to her, propping his head up on his elbow, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Ya come back ta me, Greene. Ya fight this. Yer strong," he whispered against her ear as his heavy eyelids fluttered shut. "Stronger than ya know."

* * *

"How's Beth?" Carol asked, reaching her good arm across the table and patting Daryl's hand affectionately.

Daryl shrugged, pulling his hand out of her reach. His mood was surly, as it had been consistently for the last nine days. He sat at Rick's temporary dinning room table, in his temporary new home and pushed his bland tasting canned spaghetti O's around on his temporary plate. He had no appetite, despite feeling like he was starving earlier. Listening, without really paying attention to the conversation the group was having about their next move if they weren't allowed to stay, Daryl was heavily distracted.

"She's doing better," Glenn offered, butting into the conversation. "She's eating, talking ..."

Daryl grunted. "Barely."

It took her nearly two days to wake up from the induced sedation, with Denise coming back each day to check her vitals and eventually remove her stitches, as promised. When she finally awoke, they got some food and water in her, but she refused to get out of the bed. Speaking only when necessary, she had barely said more than a handful of words to any of them for well over a week, now. Denise had assured them again and again, every time they asked, that physically, Beth was fine.

Mentally, she would need their patience.

It was destroying him to see her this way, as if all of the light had been sapped from her, all the hope and wonder erased from her beautiful blue eyes. Many times Rick and the others had attempted to to console him, but It killed him to talk about it, so he did what he _always_ did, what he did best ... stuffed it down, burying it deep.

"Well just so you know, if you or Maggie need a break, I can sit with her for awhile," Carol offered.

Daryl nodded, pushing his plate away from him. He had no desire to eat. He felt cornered - wanting to be with Beth at all times, yet finding it harder and harder to be around her. At night when they slept was the only time things felt normal, her body seeking his out for warmth. He'd wake up from sleep to find her curled around him, but as soon as she opened her eyes, she'd immediately roll away. He tried not to take it personally, but it hurt so damn much. _Too much._

"Daryl, did you hear me?" Rick asked, interrupting him from his maddening, depressing thoughts.

"What?" Daryl blinked.

"Deanna," Rick continued. "She wants to meet with us sometime in the next few days. Individually."

"What tha hell fer?"

"We're not sure," Michonne answered, "but Aaron says it's part of her decision process."

Daryl stood abruptly, "Need some air."

Without waiting for anyone to respond, he stood and stalked outside, letting the screen door slam behind him on his way out. He wasn't sure where he was headed as he stomped down the porch stairs and lit a cigarette, so with no destination in mind, Daryl just started walking.

He walked until he couldn't anymore, the large steel walls blocking his path in every direction he went, and keeping him trapped inside. _Outdoor cat. Still fenced in._ It had grown dark, yet remained considerably warm, but he grew tired of walking in a literal circle. With no place left to go but home, Daryl started back in that direction, stopping in the middle of the street to stare up at the big looming blue structure that served as his four walls and a roof, dreading what awaited him, and hating himself for it.

He let himself quietly into the house, stopping briefly by the door to scratch the dumb dog behind its ears. It was dark except for the light in the entryway, meaning that Maggie and Glenn had probably already turned in, making Daryl wonder how long he'd been out walking in circles. Silently, he crept up the stairs, the plush carpet beneath him cushioning the sound of his boots. Letting his memory guide him through the dark corridor, he made his way to the bedroom, quietly pushing open the door, his eyes falling on the empty bed.

"Beth?" He called her name, moving to the bathroom and flicking on the light, finding it empty as well. Fighting panic, he went back to the hallway, whispering her name into the darkness. Maybe she was downstairs? Had he walked right by her?

Stumbling down the stairs, Daryl searched the living room, then bolted to kitchen, finding it empty as well. He let out a string of muffled curses, as cold hard fear began to grip him in its clutches ... _would this reoccurring nightmare of Beth disappearing ever end?_ Damn near close to tears, and not knowing what else to do, Daryl turned to go wake Glenn and Maggie, when he noticed that the back door was slightly ajar. Cautiously, he inched towards it, breathing a sigh of relief as a familiar silhouette came into view, Beth perched on the back porch steps, leaning against the railing.

"Beth?" He asked, stepping through the doorway. "Tha hell ya doin' out here?" His eyes roaming over her form, taking in the sight of her and secretly thrilled to see her out of that damn over-sized bed swimming with too many pillows.

"I just couldn't sleep anymore," she answered him, annunciating each word slowly, her speech slightly slurred.

It was then that he noticed the liquor bottle nestled between her thighs. "Yer drinkin'?" He asked, with a disapproving scowl.

"Ya caught me," Beth giggled, lifting the bottle of Peach Schnapps to her lips and taking a swig.

"Tha hell ya get that?" Daryl demanded, pulling the back door closed and taking a seat across from her.

"Found it on the bus when I was gettin' my bag. Apparently one of you cleaned out the bar when ya'll left the lodge."

Daryl snorted. "Prob'ly Abe. How much'a that ya drink?" He asked, reaching for the bottle, but Beth jerked it back out of arms length, the contents making a sloshing sound.

"I broke the seal," she announced proudly, holding the now almost empty bottle up before bringing it to her lips again. "Hey, what's everyone got against this stuff anyway? It's not _that_ bad ..." She shrugged, "I kinda like it. Figured it was the only thing that wouldn't be missed."

"Yer gon' be sick in tha mornin'. Ya better eat somethin', drink water," Daryl warned her.

"You still tryin' to chaperone me, Mr. Dixon?" Beth teased, tilting her head back to smile at him.

He'd waited days to see her smile again, to hear her voice, interact with her and see her outside of that _goddamn_ bedroom, but not like this ...not alcohol induced and insincere. It angered him more than it probably should have. "Why ya doin' this?" He asked, unable to mask the hurt he felt.

"I'm just tryin' to feel good, Daryl. What's so wrong with that? I thought that's what you all wanted." She traced her thumb over the rim of the bottle, and batted her eyelashes at him. "Why are you so mad at me?"

"I ain't mad at ya, Beth." Daryl said softly. "But this," he waved his hand at her Peach Schnapps, "this ain't gon' make ya feel any better."

"It is right now," she countered, tipping the bottle at him in a salute before taking a big gulp. "And for the record," she slurred, "I ain't never had no pet pony either ...it was a _horse_. There's a difference ya, know," she nodded matter-of-factly, seemingly pleased with herself.

"I can't do this," Daryl sighed, as he stood and started back up the porch stairs, refusing to sit and watch her self destruct. To make light of things, when everything was just so damn heavy. "Ya wanna sit an' drink yerself inta a stupor, go 'head, but don't expect me ta watch."

"Go ahead and leave then ...it's what you're good at," Beth called after him.

Daryl flinched, her words striking a chord, piercing his heart. Deep down he knew she didn't mean it, knew that she was purposely lashing out to hurt him because she was suffering and needed to bring him down to her level. He knew because he was painfully familiar with that strategy himself, had perfected it, even. What she didn't know is that _he was already there_.

"What's that s'posed ta mean?" He hissed, taking the bait anyway.

"Seen your back more than any other part of ya, last few days," Beth threw back. "Can't seem to get away from me quick enough."

"That's bullshit!" Daryl yelled, flinging himself around and stomping down the porch stairs so he could look her in the eye. "I been worryin' sick 'bout ya fer days! Standin' 'round waitin' fer ya ta gimme a sign ...a look, a word, anythin' ta let me know ya was gon' be alright!" He clenched and unclenched his fists, needing to do something to ease the tension radiating from his body. Frustrated, he came at her again, "Can't touch ya, won't say a damn word ta me! Finally pull yer ass outta bed an' all ya wanna do's get shit faced like some dumb college bitch!"

"Go to hell!" Beth shot back. "You don't get it."

"Yer right, I don't!" Daryl countered, slapping his hands down on the banister and clutching it so hard his knuckles turned white. "But not fer not tryin'!"

"What do you want from me, Daryl?" Beth yelled back, slamming the bottle of Peach Schnapps down on the porch beside her.

"I want ya ta stop actin' like ya don't give a crap! I want ya ta talk ta me!" He threw his arms in the air in exasperation, as he turned and paced the yard, pushing his hands through his hair as if he intended to rip it out. "There's no judgment here girl, ya gotta know that by now!"

"I killed people," she blurted out in a hateful, venomous tone, spittle flying from her mouth. "Is that what you wanna hear?" She asked him, swiping her sleeve across her face to wipe it dry. "I slit a mans throat right before I tried to seduce him, that's how I got these," she jerked the collar of her t-shirt down to showcase the bite and bruise on her shoulder, not caring that her breast was fully exposed. "I made a deal with the devil herself to take him out in exchange for our freedom, and then she double crossed me."

Daryl took a step closer, wanting to comfort her, yet knowing that she would likely pull away. He stayed himself, hoping she would continue, knowing more than anyone that she had to get it out and not let it fester.

"And Forbes ...well, that ones actually not on _my_ conscience," she let out a cynical little laugh, despite the tears that slid down her cheeks. "Eric was the one who killed him ...literally just in time to save me from being raped in a storage closet," she spat, her tone angry and laced with bitterness. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, then brought the bottle to her lips and took another swig. "That's why I couldn't leave without him. What he did for me ... _I owed him_."

She paused for a moment, raising the bottle to her mouth again, but changed her mind and set it back down. "And Dawn," she snorted, the woman's name on her lips dripping with disdain. "Well ...you had a front row seat for _that_ one. I was _never_ gonna let that evil bitch hurt anyone ever again."

Her sins confessed, Beth reached for her bottle once more, throwing it back and nearly draining its contents. Her chugging leaving her breathless, she dragged the back of her hand across her mouth, and set the bottle back down before continuing. "I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore," she sobbed, lowering her face into her hands. "I can't stand what I see ..." She raised her head, her blue eyes locking onto him, puffy from crying, "Is that what you wanted to hear Daryl?" She asked him. "That I went against _everything_ I was ever taught? _Everything_ I've ever stood for?"

"Beth," he breathed her name, unable to stay back any longer, he moved towards her, "but ya didn't." He reached for her, wanting to reassure her.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, smacking his hand away.

Daryl recoiled, surprised at her violent outburst, as she lifted the Peach Schnapps bottle to her lips once more. _That was it._ His arm shot out like a whip, snatching it from her hands. "That's enough!" He yelled, dumping its contents into the grass and hurling the empty bottle into the yard.

"Screw you!" Beth cried, lunging off the porch steps at him. Her tiny fists clenched in little balls, she pounded them against his chest, slamming them over and over against the hard leather of his vest, screeching obscenities into the quiet night.

Daryl stood completely still, absorbing her rage, allowing her to pummel him until her voice grew hoarse and her blows became softer. He grabbed her wrists, gently but firmly, as her body shook, wracked with sobs and finally exhausted, Beth collapsed limply against his chest. He held her then, his arms wrapping securely around her frail form, holding her up as she'd done for him once, what now seemed like so very long ago.

They stood immobile in the moonlight, as the seconds ticked by into minutes, and maybe even hours. It didn't matter. Time at this moment was irrelevant to both of them.

"Ya have ta put it away, Beth." Daryl murmured against her hair, offering her the same advice she had given him that night at the shack before they had burned it to the ground. Carefully, he titled her head back so he could look down into her eyes, "Ya have ta put it away, or it kills ya ..." he lifted his hand and placed his palm over her heart, "here."

With a gut wrenching moan, Beth clung to him then, twining her arms around his neck, and Daryl released a heavy sigh, elated that she was touching him, initiating physical contact, instead of shying away from it. It was a very small step, but a victory nonetheless. Hooking his forearm up under her knees, he lifted her effortlessly up into his arms, and carried her into the house, the corner of his mouth tilting up into the tiniest of smiles, knowing somehow deep down in his bones, that his girl was going to be okay. _He had to believe that._

Kicking the kitchen door closed with the heel of his boot, Daryl navigated the kitchen in darkness, sidestepping the furniture as to not knock Beth's dangling limbs on anything. He proceeded back up the stairs, and bypassed their bedroom, _damned_ if he was gonna put Beth back inside the cage she'd made for herself over the last week. Moving quietly as to not rouse Glenn and Maggie, he nudged the door to the spare bedroom open with the toe of his boot, and leaned to flick on the light switch.

Soft white light emanated from the lamp on the dresser, illuminating the spare bedroom that was small and quaint, with a much smaller bed and what Daryl perceived to be a normal amount of pillows, fluffed up against a plain wooden headboard. It was far less luxurious than the other room, simple and even sparse, and yet, it was perfect.

Covering the short distance from the door to the bed, Daryl gently laid Beth down onto the faded floral comforter and took a seat on the edge of the bed so he could pull off the raggedy tennis shoes she wore. She remained silent, her blue eyes watching him intently, curling and uncurling the toes of her now bare feet, as he dropped her shoes to the floor. Hesitantly, he reached for the button fly of her jeans, intending only to make her more comfortable. Instinctively, Beth seemed to know that. Remaining still, she allowed him this liberty, raising her hips up off the bed to assist Daryl in tugging her jeans off. Folding them over his arm, he stood and draped them over the rocking chair in the corner, before turning his attention back to Beth, lifting the comforter up and tucking her snugly in.

"Don't go," she sighed, as her eyelids drifted closed.

"Ain't goin' nowhere," Daryl replied, shrugging off his vest, and draping it with Beth's jeans.

He flicked the light switch off, as he made his way to his own side of the bed. A few moments later, stripped down to just his faded worn jeans, he slipped under the covers, tucking his arm under Beth's head, he pulled her flush with his body, and closed his eyes, letting the sound of her even breathing, lull him to sleep.

And he dreamed.

_Dreamed of Beth frolicking half naked in a forgotten stream, cute pink camo panties, the scent of strawberries hanging heavily in the air between them. Of a gold cross dangling between her breasts, bobbing against her glistening wet skin as she bounced happily in the water. She was splashing him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, laughing as she dodged his advances of retaliation._

_Together, they fell upon the grassy bank, fingers entwining, mouths searching, tasting, devouring each other hungrily. He wanted her. Wanted to bury himself deep within her softness, immerse himself within the light she exuded, banishing all his demons to the far recesses of his brain where they couldn't hurt him anymore. Not when he was with her ...like this._

_Her mouth was hot, searing his chilled skin as she kissed a fiery path down his body. He groaned in anticipation, throbbing, waiting to feel her mouth close around him ... he pushed his hands into her hair, guiding her ..._

Daryl's eyes flew open, his body still awash in sensations, his mind foggy from sleep, and his hands _still_ threaded through Beth's golden locks.

"Tha hell," he mumbled, draped in cloak of darkness and confusion, his brain slow to register that his vivid dream and reality had somehow merged together into the present.

His pants bunched down at his knees, Beth's soft lips encasing his hardness, Daryl moaned, involuntarily pushing himself deeper into her mouth, caught up in the moment before his mind finally began to grasp and register what was happening. Untangling his hands from her hair as gently as he could manage, Daryl pushed at Beth's shoulders, shoving her away. His body painfully aroused, responding to her every touch, _damn he wanted her_ , but not like this.

A woman possessed, Beth was not to be deterred, she sat back on her heels, peeling Daryl's jeans the rest of the way off, and straddled his hips, sinking down on his erection, her moist heat engulfing him, sucking him deep within her, as she let out an inhuman feral-like groan. Daryl sucked in a sharp breath, absorbed in sensations, his mind battling with his body to _do the right thing_. He knew he should stop her, knew this was wrong, but his body betrayed him as Beth began moving against him. She rocked her hips, grinding them against his, curving her pelvis upward and then dropping down hard, their bare flesh slapping together violently.

Moaning her name into the darkness, Daryl reached for her, wanting to draw her down to him for a kiss, to look into her eyes, only to have his hands slapped away and his face pressed forcefully into the pillow. There was nothing gentle about this lovemaking. _It really wasn't lovemaking at all_ , Daryl realized, as Beth arched her back and raked her nails down his chest, leaving his flesh stinging in their wake. This was Beth, attempting to stop the bleeding, cauterizing her own wounds - she may not be able to control the intensity of her grief, but she could control _this_ ... taking back her power the only way she knew how to, using him to do it, using his own body against him.

It pissed him off.

He grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her soft flesh, and flipped her onto her back, trapping her beneath him, his hips bucking furiously, pounding her into the mattress, the springs groaning and squeaking beneath them. He could feel her hands on his ass, kneading his skin, encouraging him to go _harder_ , go _faster_ , as she gasped, thrashing her head about madly on the pillow, arching upwards to meet his thrusts, grunting every time he entered her. They'd had rough sex before, but even then, it was tender, loving ... _this_ was _not_ rough sex _, this_ was two angry people battling for dominance.

Daryl knew better than most that this was just a substitute - a bandage that only temporarily filled the void. Once the euphoria wore off, you were back to feeling that aching emptiness again. _Rinse and repeat._ He'd gladly give her anything she needed to heal, but not like this. _Beth deserved better._

Suddenly Daryl froze, and Beth cried out in protest, clawing her hands down his back, frustrated in the sudden loss of sensations. His own sensitivity excruciating, Daryl withdrew himself from inside her, rocking back on his heels and forcing her thighs closed with shaking hands.

"Ain't gon' take ya like some bitch in heat," he panted, breathless from his exertion. "Not like this," he shook his head no, "Not you."

Her breathing erratic like his, Beth stared up at Daryl as if for the first time in days she was seeing clearly, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she gasped at the bloody scratches she'd inflected on his chest. "Daryl -I ..." she stammered, shocked and horrified at her own behavior.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position, drawing her knees up to her chest, as if her nakedness suddenly embarrassed her. "I - I'm - " she mumbled, clamoring for the right words, something to fill the heavy tension that was stretching tighter and tighter between them by the moment. "I'm so sor-"

"Don't," Daryl replied, silencing her. An apology was the _last_ thing he wanted from her right now.

"I just - I just wanna ... _feel_ something... anything, Daryl!" She cried. "But all I feel is numb. Like I lost something ...like _I'm_ lost," she hugged her knees tighter. "I thought - I thought this would help. I thought you wanted me," she turned her blue eyes up on him, almost accusatory, yet not.

"I do want ya," Daryl replied. "I _still_ want ya," he bobbed his head, drawing her eyes lower to see that he was still fully erect, throbbing and painfully so. "Not some ruttin' in tha dark like ya don't mean nothin' ta me, though. An' i know yer goin' through somethin', an' I'm tryin' at help ya, Greene, I really am ... but I'm afraid I'm just hurtin' ya more."

"I thought you weren't afraid of nothin'," she whispered against her knees.

"It was a damn lie when it came outta my mouth an' ya knew it _then_. It's still a lie now," he admitted. "I'm afraid ..." he paused, letting the weight of his words sink in for himself as much as for her. " Afraid of who I am ...what I've seen an' done ... Hell, of what I haven't even had ta do yet!" He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes before continuing. "But more than anythin', I'm scared of losin' ya, Beth. An' yer here, right now yer here, girl ...but yer not really _here_."

"I wanna be here," Beth admitted. "With you," she reached up to brush back the hair that had fallen over his eyes again.

It was a loving, tender gesture, and so typically Beth, it tore at Daryl's heart. "I want it, too."

"Will you stay with me?" She asked, eyes wide and innocent like a child.

"'Course I will," he nodded. "Where else would I go, Greene?"

Together, they crawled back under the covers, Daryl tucking Beth protectively under his arm. She curled against him, determined to have every inch of her body touching his, wrapping her arm around his chest, mindful of the scratches she put there.

"Daryl ..."she whispered into the darkness.

"Yeh?"

She sighed, her warm breath fanning his throat, "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. Just wanted to remind you ... and I love you."

One corner of his mouth turning up in a lopsided grin, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, "Love ya too, Beth."

She _did_ say she was going to keep on reminding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow - yeah, this one was a doozy, I know. The title of this chapter is from my #1 Bethyl love anthem "You" by Keaton Henson (I always hear it from Daryl's POV to Beth). It is also my #1 cure for writers block, and inspiration for almost every emotional and romantic scene I write for them. I like to shamelessly plug it whenever I can, because I don't believe it is a very well known song/artist - and it is just too painfully beautiful to NOT know it. Please, do yourself a favor and google it. I promise you will not be disappointed.
> 
> And we are winding down to the conclusion of this story, my friends ...just a few chapters left. As much as that saddens me - I am so blessed that you've made this emotional journey with me. I hope that you will join in my next adventure in progress - The Way Forward, which I will begin posting (and I'm already a few chapters in) on the very same day I post the finale chapter of this story (wow, that's almost painful to say). As always, and eternally grateful - thanks for tuning in! xoxo ~ Lis


	43. If you must work, work to leave some part of you on this earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for Deanna to make her decision. Will she allow the group to stay, or send them on their way? Beth takes the necessary steps to begin healing from her ordeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the days delay - this chapter was a tough one. I had a lot of ground to cover here and developed a nasty case of writers block early in the week. Thanks to my saving grace and dear friend/editor Ben, I was able to pull my shit together and finally get this chapter completed. I hope you all have a wonderful week, and I'll see you next weekend. xoxo ~ Lis

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Daryl awoke with a start, pushing himself up on his elbows and blinking to accommodate the bright sun streaming through the windows. Something had caused him to stir, he just wasn't sure what. He turned to find Beth's side of the bed empty and cold, a sure sign that she'd been gone awhile now. A torn page from her journal sat on her pillow, a note scratched for him. Daryl squinted his eyes, the words slowly coming into focus as he read: _"I know what I have to do, now. Meet me at Rick's when you wake."_ His brain scrambling to decipher her words and their meaning, Daryl pushed his hand through his hair and flopped back onto the pillow, crumbling the note in his fist.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

There it was again. Groaning inwardly, Daryl rolled out of bed, dragging on his jeans and padded out of the room, following the sound downstairs and to the front door, Beth's note still clutched in his fist. Realizing it was locked and wondering why since they'd all gotten into the habit of leaving it unlocked, Daryl swung it open to Rick's smiling chipper face.

"You look like shit," he grinned at him.

"Didn't get much sleep," Daryl rasped in his gravelly morning voice. He wasn't nearly conscious enough to deal with _this_ shit yet, and he wasn't even sure what _this_ shit was. "Ya know where Beth is?" He asked, shuffling towards the kitchen, hoping that someone had kindly made some coffee, and even more kindly, saved some for him. He never had a taste for it before, but the weeks they'd spent at the lodge had turned it into something habitual.

"Yeah," Rick replied, following him. "She's over at my place, visiting with Judith."

"She seem alright?" Daryl asked, trying to sound casual, and not really understanding why he felt the need to do so. Rick knew, just like everyone knew, Beth was in a bad place.

"She seemed fine to me," Rick answered, tugging one of the island stools out so he could pull up a seat. "I mean, she's dressed and out of the house, right? She hasn't been in days, so yeah, I assumed it was a good thing when she came knockin' this morning."

Choosing to be satisfied momentarily with that answer, Daryl shoved the bunched up note into his pocket, and breathed a sigh of relief that someone had been mindful enough to save him some coffee. He rummaged through the cabinets until he found a mug, then poured himself a cup and took the stool opposite of Rick. "Did ya need somethin' then, or is this jus' a social call?" He asked, taking a gulp of the bitter brew, hoping it would wake him up quickly.

"Deanna wants to see us all today," Rick nodded. "With everyone on the mend, I think she's ready to make her decision. She wants us all to meet at her house around noon," He glanced down at his watch.

"Times it now?" Daryl asked, taking another gulp of the coffee, wincing as it settled in his stomach like a rock.

"Eleven twenty-two," Rick answered, pulling his sleeve back down over his watch, and not prying into why Daryl, who'd barely missed a sunrise in two years, was only just now waking up. "If she asks us to leave, Abe thinks we should still push towards D.C. ..." he let his voice trail off momentarily. "The bus is on E, both tanks, they were ridin' red the last seven miles here, and even if we could find some diesel fuel - enough to fill her, we wouldn't get far before needin' to go lookin' again. I'm not real comfortable heading into the big cities, either."

Daryl shrugged, "Seems we can't leave then," he answered simply. "Strike a deal wit her - let us stay on til' spring, worst case scenario. We can go out on a few runs, scope out tha landscape - look fer a place of our own." Seemed as good a plan as any, present circumstances.

Rick nodded, pulling up from the stool and tucking it back under the island. "Yeah," he agreed, nodding again, and Daryl knew he was silently weighing everyone's input while he internally struggled with what was best for the group. "I know the way out. See ya soon. Don't be late."

Daryl pushed the stool out and stood, as he heard the front door click shut. Leaving his half empty mug sit on the counter, he dashed up the stairs and threw on some clothing, quickly tugging on his boots, and not bothering with the laces. He hated not having his crossbow, he thought, as he slipped on his vest and started down the stairs, made him feel naked and not entirely whole. He hoped if Deanna planned on letting them stay, realized they weren't a threat, she'd return their weapons.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he quickly cut across the yard to Ricks house, just right next door. Carl sat on the porch in an old withered rocking chair, chunky little Judith on his lap, eating her fist as her big brother rocked her. Snuggled in a sweater and a knit bonnet, she looked more and more like Lori everyday. Carl did too, tall and lanky just like his mother - _Olive Oil_ , Daryl thought to himself.

"Hey," Carl nodded at him from under the brim of his fathers Sheriff hat.

"Hey," Daryl ducked his head in reply, propping his arms on the porch railing. "Seen Beth?" He asked, getting straight to the point, not intending to be rude, but almost certain he came off that way.

"She left awhile ago," Carl offered, seemingly unoffended. "Right after my dad. Said something about heading down to the infirmary to check on Tara."

"Thanks kid," Daryl mumbled, pushing away from the porch and heading in that direction.

The walk there seemed longer today, or maybe he was just that anxious. Paying very little attention to the curious Alexandrians eyeing him as he hustled by, he kept his eyes lowered, mulling over what Beth could have meant by the words she'd left for him on her pillow. _She knew what she had to do_ \- so just what exactly was it?

Finally, he found himself climbing the small staircase to the infirmary. Pushing open the door, he let himself in quietly, hoping to find Beth and slip out quickly. It wasn't an actual hospital, but it still gave off the same uncomfortable vibes - cold, sterile and smelling of sickness.

"Daryl!" Tara called to him, giddy with excitement. "Did you come to break me out?"

"Ya that miserable?" Daryl asked, fighting the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Tara was always so damn excited - about anything, it was hard not to be infected by her exuberance - whether you wanted to be or not.

"Actually, I'm being taken very good care of. I do miss Eugene's hair something fierce, though," she smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Lookin' fer Beth. She here?" He asked, hopeful.

"She was," Tara answered. "She sat with me for awhile, looked in on Noah and Sasha, then left," her expression tilting into a frown at Daryl's grim face. "Everything okay?"

"Just need ta find 'er. Know where she went?" He asked, his patience running thin. It was almost time to meet up at Deanna's and he'd promised Rick he wouldn't be late.

"I don't, I'm sorry," She shook her head no. "But maybe Sasha does ...she was with her last."

Daryl mumbled his thanks, moving past her towards the other side of the room, where curtain dividers were used to give the more critically injured patients some privacy. Peeking around the first divider, he found Noah, sleeping peacefully and looking so much better than he had a week ago. Easing back, Daryl continued down, finding the next two beds empty, the fourth and final one containing Sasha. She sat, propped as comfortably as her bruised and battered ribs would allow, absently flipping through a romance novel.

Awkwardly, Daryl cleared his throat, announcing his presence. She raised her head, pinning him in place with her gaze, laying the novel down across her thighs. Her one eye was no longer swollen shut, but remained puffy and an angry blue-ish purple color in its current stage of healing.

"Daryl," she regarded him, her voice even, careful of divulging any emotions.

Daryl swallowed, although he wasn't nervous, his skin suddenly felt prickly and uncomfortable. While he and Sasha had never been close, they _had_ worked side by side on the prison council. He'd led the mission that had gathered the antibiotics to save her life, and he'd led the search party that tracked her bloody and beaten in the woods. _He'd also been the one who plunged the knife into the head of the man that she loved - gotten him bitten ..._

"Just lookin' fer Beth," he mumbled, bringing his hand to his mouth and chewing the tip of his thumbnail.

"She _was_ here," Sasha replied, "She left with that doctor, Denise."

Somewhere in the back of his mind pricked a memory of that doctor mumbling something to Maggie about having her docterate in psychology, while she removed Beth's stitches. Maybe Beth had heard too, while she was there between worlds, seeing but not _seeing_ -maybe hearing, too. Daryl nodded his thanks and prepared to turn and leave, when Sasha called him back.

"Daryl wait," She said, her voice slightly cracking with the effort to keep her emotions contained. Her brown eyes equally as soft as they were hard, her bottom lip quivering slightly as she bit down to steady it, she shook her head, struggling with what she wanted to say.

"I _did_ blame you," she finally worked it out of herself. "Even when Bob told me not to, even when I knew it wasn't true ..." She swallowed, forcing herself to continue and she clamped her eyes shut and weighed her words carefully. "I was just so angry, and it didn't even matter ... but I know the risks involved, the risks we take, and _why_ we do it."

Daryl's eyes drifted closed, knowing her words rung true. Every move they made carried risks, heavy ones - sometimes ones you didn't get to come back from - and all that really mattered anymore was what, and _who_ you were choosing to risk it for.

"And Tara," she flicked her head towards the bed on the opposite side of the room. "Judith, and Beth ... that's on _me_ ," her voice cracked again as a lone tear fell from her good eye and slithered its way down her swollen cheek.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "They were comin' no matter what."

That he _knew_ to be true, even if he was still trying to comfort her somehow - ease that guilt he understood so well. Those cop pricks had been watching them for awhile, biding their time and waiting for the perfect opportunity, as they all settled in comfortably and let their guard down a bit more than they probably should have. The headlights up ahead that day in the rain, the face in the window, the tracks outside ... all the signs were there, if you knew how to read them.

Sasha nodded, and whether she was placating him, or she truly believed him, he'd probably never know. She'd work it out in time, on her own terms, like they all had to. Of that, he was also sure.

With a final node, she lifted the romance novel off of her lap, and Daryl knew their conversation was over. Making his way across the room towards the door, he spared another nod in Tara's direction and took his leave. The sun seemed brighter now, as Daryl stepped out onto the porch and raised up his arm to shield his eyes from its harsh rays.

Shit. Not brighter ... _higher_ \- noon. He was late!

Bounding off the steps, Daryl broke into a run, the heels of his boots, normally intentionally silent, now pounded on the pavement beneath him. He skirted past their row of houses, with Carl and Judith gone from their rocking on the porch, past his dumb one-eyed dog whining in the back yard and up towards the pond that sat as the focal point for all of Alexandria. If his memory served him correct, it was just up and around the other side of the man-made pond.

Thankfully it did. He was breathing heavy as he stomped up the steps, and before he could lift his hand to rap his knuckles on the door, it swung open. An older man with graying hair and round rimmed eye glasses shielding kind blue eyes smiled at him, as he stepped aside to allow Daryl entry.

"Welcome," he greeted Daryl, extending his hand and introducing himself as Deanna's husband, Reg Monroe.

"Daryl Dixon," Daryl grunted back, enduring the physical contact for politeness' sake.

Reg jotted something down on the notebook he held in his other hand and offered Daryl some lemonade, which he politely declined with another grunt. A simple shrug of his shoulders, and Reg led him through the entryway and deeper into the house, pausing in the doorway to a larger room with shelves lining all the walls and stacked with books from floor to ceiling. And finally some familiar faces.

Just a handful of them, Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Eugene and Rick who wore a disapproving look that he tossed at Daryl for being late. Weren't much else he could do, and since no one else seemed to be talking, he flopped down into one of the chairs and waited, chewing his thumb.

One by one, they were called from the room, Reg coming back and leading them to wherever Deanna was meeting with them, until eventually it was just him, Glenn and Rick left. Daryl tried to ignore the apprehension that tugged at his gut, the nagging worry of what exactly this was all about and why it seemed to take so long. Where was everyone going, anyway? They didn't pass back this way, that was for sure. Were they waiting in a separate room somewhere? The post interview room? He snorted at how stupid that sounded, drawing Rick and Glenn's eyes to him.

He didn't have time to explain because suddenly Reg had returned, informing Daryl that it was his turn. Curiosity far outweighing the apprehension, coupled with the eagerness to get this over with so he could continue his search for Beth, Daryl was quick to his feet. As he followed Reg down the hall, he remained alert, casing his surroundings and keeping his ears peeled for any recognizable voices, but the house was silent.

The hallway turned sharply to the left, and as they rounded the corner, Deanna stood waiting by an open doorway. She smiled warmly at him, a hint of recognition in her eyes.

"Mr. Daryl," she greeted him with a polite nod, as she ushered him into the room and closed the door behind them. "Would you please have a seat over there?" She asked, indicating an armchair in the far corner of the room flanked by two large windows.

The sun streamed into the room, bright and cheerful, chasing away that nagging feeling that had settled deep in Daryl's gut. He did what she asked, strange as this all was to him, but as soon as he was seated and his eyes caught sight of the video camera tripod in the corner, it started to churn again.

Deanna's gaze followed his, as she took a seat beside the tripod. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

Daryl shook his head yes.

"Please don't be. I have one of everyone permitted to stay here, including myself. It's my form of cataloging for future generations," she explained. "When civilization rebuilds itself, _and it will_ , don't you think they'll want to know how we survived? How good people came together and took care of one another?"

She had a point. "An' if they ain't permitted ta stay?" Daryl prodded, as his thumbnail found its way back to his mouth, even though he liked her use of the words, "good people".

"We simply record over them," Deanna shrugged, hand stretching towards the little red record button. "I'd like to begin now, if that's okay with you?"

It wasn't. Not really, but what choice did he have? They needed to make a good impression, needed to hole up here at least for the winter. So Daryl forced down his uneasiness, ducked his head, and played nice.

Deanna poked the button and took her seat, folding her hands in her lap proper-like. "Your full name, please?"

Daryl pulled his thumb from his mouth and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Daryl," he answered, his eyes peeping out from beneath his hair, "Dixon."

"And where are you originally from, Mr. Dixon?"

"Georgia," Daryl answered again, short and clipped, and that was the way he intended to keep it. Playing nice meant answering, didn't mean he had to like it, and he sure didn't.

"And what did you do?"

" 'Scuse me?"

"For a living," Deanna specified. "What did you do for a living, Mr. Dixon?"

Daryl's guts twisted a bit with that question, bringing with it images of mason jars full of moonshine, and a burning shack in the woods. _A nobody, a nuthin'. Jus' some asshole redneck wit an even bigger asshole fer a brother._

"Jus' driftin', doin' odd jobs," was what he answered. Y _ou gotta stay who you are, not who you were._

"Ahh, a rambling man," Deanna made an attempt at a joke, and when Daryl didn't laugh, she moved on, picking up a spiral bound notebook from the coffee table that divided the room, and flipping through a few pages before speaking again. "So Aaron tells me that you have a crossbow. Do you hunt?"

"Yeh." Another simple answer. Now wasn't exactly the time to breech the subject of the weapons, but he was still glad she'd brought it up.

"He speaks very highly of you, despite that shiner you gave him," Deanna teased him lightly, a small smile twitching her lips before she continued. "Of all of you, actually." She paused for a moment, as if she expected Daryl to respond to her compliment. "He also said that most of you have been together from the start. Is that true?"

Daryl nodded. It was for the most part. "Gained some along tha way. Lost some, too." _So very many._ He hadn't meant for his voice to hitch up on the end of that statement, to reveal any emotions to this woman who was practically a stranger, but it slipped out before he could catch himself.

Her eyes softened, warm and kind, and blue like Beth's. He focused on them and blew out a breath, regaining his composure.

"I'm sorry for your losses," she said, and sounded sincere, her eyes lowered for just a moment, as if to steady herself, too. "I recently lost my son."

"M'sorry too," Daryl offered, and realized that he meant it.

Deanna nodded, her grim smile softening out again. "Are you married, Mr. Dixon?"

"No," Daryl shook his head.

Deanna's brow furrowed as though she was momentarily confused. "Are you related to anyone in your group?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head again, confused and now slightly annoyed by her line of questioning.

"That's odd," she mused, her eyes falling to her lap as she flipped through her papers again. "I could have sworn that I saw Dixon on the roster a bit earlier today."

Now Daryl was confused, too. He leaned forward, his thumb working its way back to his lips, as Deanna scanned whatever was written in that tablet she kept referring to.

"Yes see, here it is," she pointed to the name and held the paper up so he could see. "Beth Greene Dixon," she declared, with a nod of her head in an I-told-you-so kind of way.

Daryl stiffened, straightening back up and cleared his throat. Any brief sense of comfort he'd felt had just flew out the window. It wasn't at all that he minded that Beth had used his last name, but it was certainly unexpected and sent his stomach fluttering in a way he couldn't quite wrap his brain around. Especially now, in front of this woman who didn't know him from a damn hole in the ground.

But Deanna only seemed intrigued. "Is she special to you?" She asked, her blue eyes so very like Beth's bore into him, making Daryl feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

Special? That was an understatement if ever he'd heard one. Beth _was_ special, but she was so much _more_ than that. She was beauty and kindness and everything else that this new ugly world had forgotten. A driving force of goodness and inner strength that had the power to move mountains, to grip up a broken man and pull him from darkness, force him to confront his demons before they conquered him completely. She made him want to be a better man, and more than that, made him _believe_ that he actually could be. So no, she wasn't _just_ special.

"She's eveythin'," Daryl breathed.

Deanna's smile broadened, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and for a moment, Daryl thought she might start swooning in her seat. "Welcome to Alexandria, Mr. Dixon."

She stood abruptly, her finger reaching to power the camcorder off, and hit the eject button, retrieving the tape from inside, already labeled with his name. "You're a hunter, and so you will hunt. Help provide this community with food, and once a month, accompany Aaron for a week while he recruits. He has taken a liking to you, and quite frankly, I'd feel much better if you were with him."

Daryl remained quiet, his brain a bit hazy, as he processed everything she was saying. She moved behind the couch, and Daryl's eyes followed her, as she stretched up on tip toes and slid the video tape, _his_ tape, onto a shelf with rows of others - Michonne, Maggie, Abe, Carol, Beth Greene _Dixon_ \- they were all there now, except Glenn and Rick, but Daryl was confident they'd soon join her collection.

"Are you agreeable to this, Mr. Dixon?" she asked, as he stood and when he nodded, a quick shake of his head, she extended her hand. "Then again, welcome to Alexandria."

Daryl grasped her hand, surprised a bit at how firm her handshake was and muttered what he hoped was an audible thank you. She was still grinning, and Daryl realized right then and there that he liked this woman, this Deanna Monroe.

"Please use the side door," she instructed him. "Reg will see you out."

Feeling relieved and intent on finding Beth, Daryl headed towards the door when Deanna's voice halted him.

"Oh, and Mr. Dixon," she arched one brow upwards into her hairline, and tapped her finger on the roster, her well manicured nail zeroing in on Beth's given name. "Take a hint, huh?"

All he could do was nod stupidly as he stumbled from the room, and out the side door as she'd requested. The urge to find Beth now overwhelming, as he came back upon the main road.

As if he'd conjured her up from his very thoughts, there she was. Her arm linked through Father Gabriel's, she clung to him as they eased off of the road and into the grassy bank that surrounded the pond. She was smiling, hair pulled back and her signature braid woven through her ponytail, the sun catching the golden tones and giving her the appearance of a halo, like that night at the lodge when she stood before the fire.

Daryl felt a tightening deep in his chest, as his feet started forward on their own. He was almost to the grass and she still hadn't spotted him, so engrossed in her conversation with Father Gabriel, as they skirted the water's edge.

Daryl paused, frozen in curious confusion, watching as they kicked off their shoes and waded waist deep into the pond, turning to face each other. Gabriel placed his hand on Beth's shoulder and started speaking, as Daryl strained to hear, catching bits and pieces of their conversation floating in the wind.

"Faith is the gift of God to his people. In baptism, he calls us in to his marvelous light. We thank you, Father, for this water of baptism," Gabriel bellowed, removing his hand from Beth's shoulder to turn his palm up towards the sky, then ripple his fingers through the water, as he continued.

" _In_ _it_ we are buried with Christ in his death. _By it_ we share in his resurrection. _Through it_ we are reborn by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, we bring into his fellowship those who come to him in faith, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." He traced the sign of the cross into the air in front of him, as Beth drew it across her chest.

Daryl suddenly felt like he was intruding, and although he knew he should go, he couldn't tear his eyes away. Instead of retreating, he moved closer, wanting to hear what was being said and intrigued by what was unfolding before his eyes.

"Beth Greene, do you accept Christ as your Lord and savior?" Father Gabriel asked.

"I do," she responded with a graceful dip of her head in agreement.

"Then upon this profession of your faith, I baptize you my sister," Gabriel dipped his thumb into the water and placed it to the center of Beth's forehead, tracing the sign of the trinity, as he continued his blessing. "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

"Amen," Beth chanted with him, crossing her arms over her chest, as Father Gabriel gently turned her, tilting her backwards over his arm and dipped her head beneath the rippling water of the pond.

Daryl stood, cemented to the grass, watching with a sense of awe as Beth broke the water and regained her footing. She smiled up at Gabriel, eyes clear and unburdened, dripping wet and beautiful, as the suns rays danced across the water in an ethereal way.

"Go in peace, my sister," Gabriel returned her smile, "and may the Lord be with you."


	44. If you must live darling one, just live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl spend some much needed alone time together, as they figure out what the next step in their journey will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you all get started, I just want to take a moment to send a quick shout-out to one of my reviewers, Hasick, who inspired part of the conversation between Beth and Daryl here. Thank you everyone for your comments, they mean the WORLD to me (and often inspire me) - so leave them, always! ;)

**If you must live darling one, just live**

_Just breathe_.

Daryl swallowed, forcing down the lump that had lodged tight in his throat, preventing him from drawing air into his lungs, as Beth waded out of the pond and grabbed her boots, thanking Father Gabriel. Tearing his gaze away took every bit of strength he had in him, but he felt he owed her that much, intruding on her as he was. Even as she stood before him, he kept his eyes downcast, staring at the grass below their feet - his booted, hers bare. The slight pressure of her hand on his bicep finally drew his eyes up to her gaze. Blue and warm, it wrapped around him like a hug, threatening to cut off his air supply again.

"Lets go home, Daryl," she said, a small shudder rippling through her from the chill in the wind on her sopping wet clothing.

Daryl quickly shrugged out of his vest and draped his wings over her shoulders, as he tucked Beth into the crook of his arm and led the way home. _Home_. He supposed that's officially what it was now, and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that yet, except that it set a warm feeling curling outwards from deep within his belly. Beth leaned into him, resting her head where his chest met his shoulder as they walked the short distance down the road.

The house was still empty, as Daryl suspected it would be, figuring Glenn was probably still back at Deanna's, and maybe Maggie was waiting on him. Beth dropped her boots by the door, mumbling something about getting out of her wet clothing, and started up the staircase.

Stopping on the landing, Beth turned, "You comin'?" She asked, fingers outstretched to him.

Daryl could only nod stupidly, as he shut the front door and joined her on the steps, slipping his hand into hers and allowing her to lead him. He remained silent, his mind turning over the things he wanted to say to her - the things he wanted to ask, as she pulled him into the stupid bedroom with the over-sized _everything_.

"Beth," he began, as she disengaged their locked fingers to remove his vest, noting how she took great care in folding it before placing it on the bed.

"Shhh, later," she hushed him, placing a slender finger to her lips for emphasis, as she disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, the sound of water following her as she returned a moment later.

Daryl remained glued to the carpet, watching Beth intently as she reached to pull the ponytail from her wet hair, unweaving the braid with nimble fingers that trembled only slightly from the chill. Her hair spilled down her back in cascading waves of spun gold, as she struggled to tug her sodden top up over her head, becoming stuck in its folds. Daryl moved forward to assist her, his warm hands sliding up between the wet fabric and the cool clamminess of her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he gently worked her out of the soaked shirt.

Her breath hitched in her throat, as did his, as Beth skittered away, drawing a deep shaky breath before she trusted herself to speak again. "C'mon," she encouraged him to follow suit when she was a safe distance away, and reached for the button-fly of her jeans, literally peeling the waterlogged denim down her legs.

Daryl dropped the sodden top to the carpet below with a wet _thud_ , as Beth padded back into the bathroom, clad only in her unmentionables. A moment later the sound of the water stopped and silence filled the space.

Working the buttons of his shirt free, Daryl kicked off his boots and entered the bathroom, feeling suddenly shy as he watched Beth unhook her bra and slide her panties down her shapely legs, in the reflection of the bathroom vanity. She caught his gaze then, the mirror serving as some sort of intangible buffer, before climbing naked into the tub.

She settled into the steaming water with a soft sigh, her eyelids fluttering closed, and all Daryl could do was watch her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, her lips slightly parted, the rosy glow of her cheeks as the water warmed her skin to a flushed hue of pink.

"Ya gonna stand there and gawk at me all day?" She asked, startling Daryl from his thoughts.

Shaking his head, Daryl quickly shucked the rest of his clothing and joined her in the bath, his long legs brushing against Beth's as he settled himself opposite of her. Mimicking her movements, he tipped his head back against the rim of the tub and forced his eyes closed, willing himself to relax and just enjoy the peaceful quiet, the pleasure of her company.

The steam rose up off of the hot bath water, leaving a hazy mist that wrapped around them both like a magical cloak of warmth, distorting their reality, at least for a little while. There were no problems here, in this particular time and space. Just him and the woman that he loved, and Daryl released a shaky breath and let the warm water seep straight into the marrow of his bones, turning his body to jelly.

The water sloshed, lapping at Daryl's chest, tickling the hair sprinkled there, as Beth sat up and lathered a washcloth, sliding it across her wet skin, leaving a sudsy trail behind, until she was satisfied that she was clean. She passed it to him, and Daryl busied himself in doing the same, pretending he wasn't watching the water bead and drip from her nipples as she stretched her arms over her head and scrubbed her hair full of shampoo.

Sliding forward into his space, her feet brushed against his inner thighs, as Beth turned the faucet on, and tilting her head back under the spray of water to rinse herself clean, baptized herself for a second time today. Daryl sucked in a sharp breath, as a slow burning began to churn in the pit of his stomach, and he forced his brain to think about anything other than her soft, wet body, just scant inches away, yet miles apart from him.

Quickly, he scrubbed his own hair clean, ducking under the water to remove the soapy suds. Resurfacing, to shake his head like a dog to toss off the excess water, wishing he could shake off the thoughts tumbling around in his head as easily, dirty and otherwise.

"Wash my back?" Beth asked, sliding around and scooting herself between Daryl's bent legs, without waiting for him to answer. Didn't matter, because she knew as well as he, that he'd walk through the pits of hell for her if she asked. His own comfort was a very little importance.

The washcloth still in his hands, Beth tugged her hair to the side, as Daryl leaned forward, trying to ignore the brush of her backside against his groin. She rested her head on her drawn up knees and moaned as he drew lazy soapy circles across her shoulder blades and down the length of her spine. Each stroke of the rag, and each little moan and groan, was a shock wave of pleasure shooting straight for his twitching hardness, but he continued with his sweet assault on both of their senses, until, reduced to putty she slumped back against the wall of his chest.

Daryl dropped the washcloth, watching it sink to the bottom of the tub, as he wrapped his arms around Beth, resting his clasped hands on her lower abdomen and his chin on the crown of her head. He was fully erect now, and certain she could feel it, but some things just couldn't be helped.

"This is nice," she whispered into the silence, as she laid her hands down atop his and settled more snugly against him.

"Yeh," Daryl breathed into her hair, the smell of strawberries wafting up to tease his nostrils. Beth _always_ smelled of strawberries for as long as he could remember. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her more deeply into his lungs, absorbing it, as he struggled to find a way to put the thoughts rolling around in his head to words.

"C'mon, out with it," Beth sighed, lifting her arm to run her fingertips down his bicep, as if she sensed his tension.

Not exactly unsure that this _damn_ woman didn't possess the ability to read his mind, Daryl was amazed that even in pieces, she was still holding him together. "Just worryin' if ... Are ya okay?" He blurted out before he could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, cursing himself for his lack of finesse.

"Am I okay?" Beth repeated, and then paused as if she was carefully weighing the answer to that question.

The silence stretched, as Daryl patiently awaited her answer, lifting his hand from the water to steady her fingers still tracing the shape of his bicep, anchoring her, as he entwined his fingers with hers, locking them. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, rubbing the tip of her thumb against his moist skin as she blew out an unsteady breath.

"No," she answered honestly, with a slight tremble in her voice. "But I _am_ better today than I was yesterday," she offered, that hint of hope he'd been listening for catching his ear. "And tomorrow, I'm gonna be better than I am today."

She sat upright, turning so she could look him in the eye, lifting her hand, dripping wet, to push the damp hair back that had fallen over his eyes. "That's all I can do, right? One day at a time."

Daryl shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "S'all any of us can do," he agreed with dip of his head.

"But I have Maggie, and Judy, and Father Gabriel, and Denise," she said with a little half small, brushing her hand across his cheek. "And I have you," she breathed, the bright blue of her eyes holding him captive in her smoldering gaze, as she dragged her thumb across his bottom lip.

A jolt of desire shot through him, running the length of his body, and straight to his groin. Daryl groaned, unable to stop himself as he twitched against her backside. "Yeh, ya got me," he ground out thick and raspy when he trusted himself to talk again.

Her smile returned briefly, as she leaned in closer and brushed her lips softly against his. Daryl steadied himself, allowing her to set the pace, still skittish after their last encounter. Lightly, he slid his lips against hers, fighting the aching urge to drag her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. It had been weeks since he'd last felt her lips on his and it had a dizzying effect on his brain, drugging his senses.

In no hurry at all, she teased the corner of his lips, nuzzling her nose against his, until Daryl felt the pointed little tip of her tongue brush against his. They groaned simultaneously as the kiss deepened, Beth twisting around completely so she could straddle Daryl's thighs, his erection pressing hard against the softness of her belly.

Breathless, Beth broke the kiss, pressing her forehead against his. "I love you, Daryl Dixon," she murmured against his lips, reaching between them to tease her fingertips against the tip of his shaft, just as she'd teased his lips earlier with her tongue.

Daryl sucked a deep breath into his deflated lungs as she continued to tease him, his erection throbbing beneath her playful touch. "I love ya too," his voice was raspy as he blew out a ragged breath. "Beth Greene _Dixon_ ," adding a slight inflection on the end, deciding two could play at this little teasing game.

Beth sat straight up with that, her spine stiff as a board, as she eyed him curiously. "How did you ...?"

"Got my ways is all," Daryl grinned lopsidedly and winked an eye at her.

Beth gasped, her body turning a flushed shade of pink that had nothing to do with the temperature of their bath water. She splashed her hand against the water, sending a stream of soapy bath water straight at his face. "Don't tease me," she huffed, sticking her bottom lip out and feigning a pout. "I was nervous, and it-it just came out," she stammered.

The teasing glint in his eye fading just a bit, Daryl pushed her. "Oh?"

"Don't you _oh_ me, Daryl Dixon," Beth wagged her finger at him.

"Yes ma'am," Daryl nodded, putting on his best somber face, he grabbed her wagging finger and sucked it between his lips, dragging his teeth against it and evoking a throaty moan from Beth. "But I do like tha sound'a that," he admitted, testing the name on his tongue again. " _Beth Dixon_."

Beth rolled her eyes, jerking her finger back and out of his reach and laying her hand on his forehead. "You feelin' alright?"

"Feelin' fine, _Mrs. Dixon_ ," he smiled sweetly at her as he reached to drag her closer to him.

"Daryl, be serious!" She chastised him, playfully swatting his hands away and easily evading him. "You _hid_ from me in a tree and now you're slinging marriage proposals at me?"

Daryl cringed inwardly, her words triggering the memory of him climbing into the tree for the night after making sure she'd made it back to camp safely. " _Hid_ in a tree, huh? That's what ya think?"

"It's what I _know_ ," Beth shot back, not missing a beat.

"Not my best judgment call," he dipped his head in agreement. "But I did gain some clarity that night," he admitted, thinking about his visit from Merle in his dream. He laughed at the absurdity of that ... _clarity thanks to Merle_.

Beth eyeballed him suspiciously, one brow arching upwards. "Clarity about what, exactly?"

Daryl reached for her again, his hands easily capturing her flailing wrists, as he pulled her flush against him and she finally stopped resisting. "That I'd fallen hopelessly in love wit ya. Jus' like some _damn romance novel_."

"Is that s-"

His lips effectively silencing her, Daryl ran his hands up Beth's back, drawing a shiver out of her, as he reacquainted himself with the inside of her mouth. Soft and warm, and wet ...and he was rock hard again in an instant, his erection pulsing insistently between them.

He drew back, his chest heaving, Beth once again breathless, and reached behind her to pull the drain stopper out. "C'mon Greene, waters gettin' cold," he tossed at her, as he sprung from the tub, grabbing a towel and quickly rubbing himself dry.

She stood, gloriously naked and dripping wet, accepting the dry towel he offered, and stepped out of the tub as she wrapped it around herself. "Back to Greene again, huh?" She huffed, pretending to sulk.

Daryl dropped his towel, reaching to chuck her under the chin. "Yer always gon' be my Greene, no matter what," he breathed, his tone turning serious. Then bending, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the bed, depositing her none-to-gently, as he tore the towel away from her, the playful glint returning to his eyes as he gazed down at her. "'Sides, I ain't even proposed ta ya yet."

Beth hooked her legs around his waist, and jerked him down on top of her, gasping as their skin connected, heated flesh sliding together against the chill in the room. Her teeth grazing his throat, she murmured against his skin, "That's good, cause I'd probably say no, anyway."

"No?" He asked, pressing himself against the apex of her thighs. She moaned in response, thrusting her hips upwards at him. "No?" He continued to tease her, pushing his hand between them, his fingers skirting the curls and sliding between her folds, already slick with wanting him.

" _Daryl_ ," Beth cried his name, her voice thick with impatience as he teased her clit with tip of his index finger. She threw her head back, whimpering and writhing beneath his skillful touch.

"No?" He asked again, as he dipped his head to suckle her breasts, drawing one hard peak between his lips.

"Yes, dammit _yes_!" She ground out between clenched teeth, her body trembling beneath him, tight and taut as a bow, ready to snap.

His lips capturing hers, Daryl entered her then, in one swift stroke, groaning as her muscles clenched around him, sucking him deep within her. He loved her slowly at first, with exquisite tenderness, again allowing her to set the pace, concentrating on her pleasure and holding himself back, taking joy in every little soft moan and sigh that escaped her lips.

They moved as one, their bodies humming in the age old song of lovemaking, until they were both slick with sweat and breathless. Beth shuddered as she cried her release into his shoulder, her muscles contracting around him until stars burst behind his eyelids and Daryl joined her, his seed spilling deep within her.

Dropping down beside her, he pulled Beth into his arms and waited for the world to stop spinning, as their breathing slowed and finally returned to some semblance of normal. Drawing lazy circles on her shoulder, Daryl pressed a kiss to her forehead, and smiled as Beth sighed and snuggled closer against him.

"So what's it gon' be, Greene?" He asked, the shit eating grin returning to tease the corners of his lips.

Beth snorted against his chest, her voice heavy, laced with sleepiness. "If that's your idea of a marriage proposal, you can keep it."

"Take it or leave it," he shrugged, "but I'd take it if I were ya."

Beth yawned, snaking one leg up between his. "Ask me again tomorrow," she threw back at him, evoking a deep rumbling laughter.

"Tomorrow then," he repeated when his laughter had subsided. And with a twisting, aching need that settled just below Beth's hand, resting over his heart, it shocked him just how much he actually wanted _it_.

Tugging the covers up over them, he hugged Beth closer, drowning in a sea of blue satin and too many pillows, as her steady even breathing finally lulled him to sleep. He'd ask her tomorrow, and the next day, and every day for the rest of his life, until she said yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a much more "fluffy" chapter than you's are all used to from me (and a tad shorter - sorry), but I wanted this chapter to be lighter and more loving/romantic rather than hot/heavy. Just one more chapter left ... Enjoy your weekend, friends!


	45. From the Ashes Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweet little epilogue of sorts ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I don't have to tell you guys how much your comments/reviews mean to me. I would really love to know how you felt about my story in its entirety. xoxo
> 
> I know you's have all seen my shout-outs to my "editor" and dear, dear friend Ben - he deserves some serious kudos, as this story simply would not have been possible without his input, advice and generally just putting up with all my crap over the last 2-3 years. He's volunteered to continue along on my next Bethyl adventure as well, and I couldn't be more thrilled!
> 
> If you have any questions about From the Ashes, or just want to chat about it or Bethyl in general, please feel free to shoot an ASK to my inbox on Tumblr - kitten1618x
> 
> *Important notes at the end

**From the Ashes Anew**

_10 months later ..._

Daryl stood, leaning against the porch column, his shoulder scratching against the grain of the wood as he waited for Beth to get home. _Home_. He was still adjusting to suburban life, but Beth definitely helped in that aspect. It was nice to have someone to come home to. _Hell_ , it was nice to have a home to come home to.

_Where was that girl at?_

"Hey neighbor!" Eric called from across the street, as he and Aaron stepped out onto their porch.

Daryl nodded his head, watching Aaron struggle to balance a large tray in his arms, while trying to pull the door closed behind him. He couldn't help but chuckle at the two of them bickering like an old married couple - Eric chastising him to "watch and not spill" whatever it was he was carrying, while Aaron huffed in frustration.

"See ya," Daryl nodded again as they passed by and hurried up the road.

Beth emerged on the horizon a moment later, running like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Hair flying out behind her, cheeks rosy and a smile that was meant just for him sent a warm feeling stirring deep inside Daryl, leaving him impatient to wrap her in his arm again. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, and while he knew this strange, emotional Daryl left everyone side-eyeing his behavior more often than not, he simply didn't give a shit.

"Where ya been Greene?" He called out to her when she was within earshot.

She bounded excitedly up the porch steps, breathless and flushed in the most adorable way. "Watchin' my most beautiful and perfect nephew so Maggie could get ready," she replied, voice all breathy. "Glenn had to pry him from my arms, his soft fuzzy little head smelled so good, I didn't wanna let him go!"

Daryl smiled, imagining Glenn forcibly removing Hershel from his overbearing Aunt's arms. Ever since Maggie had given birth a few months back, Beth had spent more time at their house than at home. He knew Glenn and Maggie were grateful for the help, though.

The truth of it was, Beth was a nurturer and at her happiest when she was lovin' on babies ... and now that Michonne and Rick were a couple, she had taken a voluntary step back when it came to Judith, not wanting to interfere too much in their family dynamics. She still got her daily visits in, but she was no longer Lil' Asskicker's primary caretaker.

Daryl tugged Beth into the circle of his arms, and she instantly melted against him. "Maybe tha practice is good fer ya," he grinned against her hair.

The words just kind of slipped out - he had no idea where they'd come from, but now that they were floating in the space between them, it wasn't as scary a prospect as he'd once thought. It wasn't exactly as if they'd been very cautious in the past, although they had gotten into the habit of using protection since they'd arrived at the Safe Zone - with much more time to make love now that they weren't stealing kisses and caresses away from prying eyes, or fighting for their lives every second of the day. Another plus for domestic life.

Beth froze momentarily, then tilted her face up at him, her eyes blue and wider than he'd ever seen. "Daryl ... what are you- Why would you-" she stammered. "Are you serious?"

Daryl shrugged, the grin creeping farther across his mouth. "Ya did say ya always wanted a child."

"Daryl ... I -I ... What changed your mind?" She asked, still awestruck.

"Mm-mm," Daryl shrugged. "Ya know ..."

"I know I love you, Daryl Dixon!" Beth exclaimed, wrapping her arms so tightly around his neck he could barely breathe.

"I know I love ya, Beth Greene," he choked, when she eased up on her grip and he could drag some air into his lungs again.

"It's _Dixon_ ," she reminded him, lifting her hand and proudly displaying her ring finger, the token of his devotion glittering against the sun. It had only taken him three weeks to whittle a "yes" out of her - and he _had_ asked every day ... sometimes _several_ times a day.

"Yer always gon' be my Greene," Daryl rasped, sliding his hands down her back and squeezing her bottom, pressing her tightly against him so she could feel how much he desired her. "So ... Wanna get started now?"

Beth playfully slapped at his shoulders. "Daryl, stop! We'll be late!" Sparing a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she pushed up on the tip of her toes and kissed him full on the mouth, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth.

Daryl groaned. "Ya don't play fair girl," he said in a half laugh, half whimper.

"Well ... _maybe_ no one will notice if we're a few minutes late?" She smiled coyly up at him, her teeth finding her own bottom lip.

That's all he needed to hear. He really hadn't expected her to agree, but he wasn't about to argue. Spinning them around, he backed her through their front door, kicking it closed with the heel of his boot, his mouth already hungrily capturing her giggles.

Pressing her back against the table in the foyer, and lifting her onto it with ease, he said a silent prayer that she had chosen to wear a dress today, as he hiked it up to her hips, while she worked his belt buckle free. He groaned again as she tugged his zipper down and her seeking fingers circled around his shaft, stroking him while she sucked on his tongue suggestively.

"Yeh, ya don't play fair at all," Daryl growled as he broke the kiss, and pushed her thighs apart, his fingers pressing against the thin cotton of her panties, already damp from her moist heat.

"All's fair in love and war," she moaned, as he slid her panties aside and rubbed his thumb against her clit until her legs began shaking and she was begging him to stop.

He relented, but only because his need for her was that strong. Slipping his hands up under her backside, he pulled her to him as he pressed himself closer, sliding his throbbing erection against her wetness before plunging inside. They moaned simultaneously, as their mouths made love too, their tongues and bodies desperately seeking to give them both the release they craved.

Hands and mouths and breathy moans all collided, a tangle of limbs and half dressed bodies. He'd love her slow and proper later, in every room of the house, over and again, until her belly was swollen with his child.

Wriggling his hand between their bodies, Daryl found Beth's clit again, pressing it in a slow, circular motion as he thrust himself deep inside her. "C'mon sweetheart, I can't hold out much longer," he growled against her lips, his body shaking with the effort to hold himself in check when just the whimpering sounds she was making were more than enough to push him over the edge.

As if his words were the only thing she needed to toss her over that precipice, her muscles contracted against him, as she threw her head back and cried out her release. Daryl followed her lead, his body shaking convulsively as he plunged into her a final time, his hands firmly locking her hips in place as he spilled his seed deep within her womb.

"I love you," she panted, her breath fanning his face as he rested his forehead against hers.

"I love ya too," he sighed, reluctant to withdrawal from her when all he wanted to do was drag her upstairs and make love to her again, until they both walked with a limp. But he did, groaning with the effort.

Daryl stumbled a few steps backwards, giving Beth some room to slide off the table and adjust her dress, enamored more with every passing second of the prospect of watching her belly grow and swell with the fruit of their love. Beth was already glowing, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from his kisses.

It scared the _hell_ out of him, too -more than he'd of liked to admit. Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice nagged at his subconscious, reminding him of the type of home life he came up from ... that it had been years into his adult life before he'd known a loving, gentle touch.

"Daryl," Beth pulled him from his thoughts with her sing-song voice. With extreme care, she tucked his sensitive manhood back into his pants and refastened his belt. "You know, if you're not ready for this, I understand ..." She clutched the neckline of his vest in her fingers and raised her wide, blue eyes up at him. "But the fact that you're worried, is the reason _why_ I _know_ you're _nothing_ like him."

Daryl had never actually told her where his scars had come from, but she _knew_ -just like she was in his head now, and she knew his insecurities were tugging at him, trying to pull him back down.

_Put it away._

Forcing down the lump that had lodged in his throat, Daryl swallowed and reached to cup Beth's face in his hands. Beth who had known nothing _but_ love, who's eyes were overflowing with it as she stared back up at him ...and he was confident she wouldn't let him fail. "M'ready. Maybe ya gotta keep remindin' me though," he said quietly, stroking his thumb lightly against her cheek.

"I think I can do that," Beth nodded, kissing the underside of his jaw. "But we really should go," she sighed, slipping from his embrace.

"Well, c'mon then. Yer the one jus' standin' 'round," he teased her, yanking open the front door and whistling for the dumb dog.

Willy came bounding through the dog door he'd recently installed on the back porch, nearly tripping Beth up as she grabbed her apple pie from the kitchen counter. Skidding past Daryl, he leaped down the stairs and barked impatiently at them from the front yard.

"Gettin' rid of that dumb dog, though," Daryl grumbled, guiding Beth out the door and down the porch stairs with his hand on the small of her back.

Beth laughed, like she always did when he talked shit about the dog. Stupid one eyed mutt that had caused more trouble than anything, and she knew just as well as Daryl, he would never get rid of him.

They headed up the road towards the pond where everyone had gathered with tables filled with food and the smell of grilled meat hung heavily in the air - venison, compliments of his hunt earlier that morning. Soft music was playing from the speakers set up on Deanna's front porch - just loud enough to be heard over the chatter, but not loud enough to draw the dead. It looked like a scene out of one those TV shows he might have watched a few minutes of while blindly flipping through the channels at whatever crummy motel he and Merle had flopped in for the night.

_And we'd have birthdays, and holidays and summer picnics ..._

Daryl hooked his arm around Beth's waist and drew her in closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead, as Rick called them over to the seats they'd reserved for them. As they sat down and he helped himself to a serving of whatever the first bowl contained that was passed down from the head of the table, Beth's warm hand resting on his thigh, Daryl glanced around at his makeshift family with a feeling of contentment.

There was no guarantee they'd be safe here forever, maybe not even for much longer, but Daryl knew he was ready to face that uncertainty with Beth and his family by his side. The people who had taken him in, accepted him for who he was - Carol, Rick, Glenn ... each one of them helping to draw him out, bit by bit, piece by piece from behind the walls he had so carefully constructed to protect himself.

And then there was Beth... who just took a wrecking ball to it, lit the _sonofabitch_ on fire and then flipped it off for good measure.

_Don't you think that's beautiful?_

Daryl covered her warm little hand with his own and gave it a squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, well that's all she wrote, my lovelies! I can't believe this story has finally concluded - for those of you that have been with me since the beginning, I would just like to express how freaking awesome you are! In fact, you're all awesome - every single one of you who read my fic baby from start to finish.
> 
> Hope you'll join along for the journey in my new Bethyl fic:
> 
> The Way Forward  
> Bethyl Prison AU -takes place after the season 4 premier -
> 
> He was tired of losing people, that's what he told her. After the tragic events at The Big Spot, and an innocent hug, Daryl is more than a little surprised when Beth seeks him out to secretly take her back to the Greene family farm for a precious family heirloom. Bound by a sense of duty, he hesitantly agrees, and when a heated exchange results in an unexpected passionate tryst, Daryl is forced to come to terms with this shifting friendship and the growing attraction he has to Beth Greene. Can they move forward past the mistake they made while isolated and emotionally vulnerable? Or would that be their biggest mistake of all?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From the Embers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600896) by [Melissa_Alexander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melissa_Alexander/pseuds/Melissa_Alexander)




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